


Cold War

by 50_points_for_ravenclaw



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drinking, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Hate Sex, M/M, Miscommunication, Poker, Smut, Versatile Derek Hale, Versatile Stiles Stilinski, lots of sex oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 06:02:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6272671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/50_points_for_ravenclaw/pseuds/50_points_for_ravenclaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hate is such a fickle thing...especially when it comes to emotionally constipated boys like Stiles and Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold War

Fact: Stiles Stilinski hated Derek Hale.

This was well known all over campus (for some weird reason—neither of them were really that popular in any other regards). It was probably due to the fact that the two seemed to always get into heated debates in the middle of class until they were practically screaming at each other across the room. Dr. Deaton was not amused. Especially seeing as dismissing the two from the classroom also meant banishing his beloved T.A.—not like Derek really did anything but glower at the rest of the students.

Fact: Derek Hale also hated Stiles Stilinski.

The arguments didn’t happen _every_ day but it was pretty close. Stiles was honestly surprised he was still passing the class with how much actual lecture time he was missing. It wasn’t his fault though that Derek purposely pushed his buttons as hard as he could. And it wasn’t his fault that he had a bit of a short temper, especially when it came to grumpy, broody, and god-like T.A.s such as Derek Hale.

Unfortunately, today was one of those days. It was almost frustrating how close the minute hand was to that bold number ten on the clock before Dr. Deaton finally had enough and actually physically dragged the two young men outside the classroom.

“Stiles,” the professor said in that eerily calm and all-knowing voice, “I’m afraid you’re going to miss the summary of what you need to know for the exam next week so you’ll have to get it from one of your peers.”

Stiles gaped a little, his mouth twitching as if he were about to speak up but Deaton continued before he could.

“Derek…please just get out of here in one piece? I’m going to need another grader coming next weekend,” he stated tiredly before stepping back inside the classroom before either of them could get a word in.

“Thanks a lot dude,” Stiles muttered darkly, letting his book bag drop off his shoulder onto the floor with a loud ‘thunk!’ and falling back against the wall with his arms crossed. He may have also been pouting a little but it was an angry pout. He wasn’t a child.

“You’re such a child,” Derek answered with a dramatic eye roll. “You know Scott will give you the information.”

“That’s beside the point,” Stiles huffed out. His normally bright eyes were narrowed darkly at the other man from underneath the too long strands of hair peeking out from his knitted cap. He really needed to get his hair cut soon.

“Now you’re just starting fights for the hell of it,” Derek said.

“Oh because we all know Derek Hale is Mr. Maturity,” Stiles bit back sarcastically.

“If you think I’m so immature, why stoop to my level?”

“Who says I was being immature?”

“I did.”

“Well I wasn’t.”

“Real convincing.”

“I don’t need to convince you.”

“Well I’m the only one here. Unless you’d like to try and convince that brick wall.”

“Oh ha ha. Since when did you start trying to crack jokes? You should probably give it up by the way. It’s not really working for you.”

“I don’t know. I think I’m doing better than you.”

“Yeah? Well—”

The door next to Stiles opened suddenly and students began to pour out quickly into the hallway. Stiles, having been momentarily distracted, turned back to Derek to find him smirking smugly and simply glared in return.

“Hey! I wasn’t sure if you’d wait or not.”

Scott walked up to the duo, looking between them for a moment before sighing in exasperation, picking up Stiles’ book bag from the floor and shoving it into said boy’s arms, and marching him away from the scene with hands firmly grasped on each of his shoulders. Stiles grumbled moodily under his breath.

“Dude, you really need to relax with Derek,” Scott said. “One day Deaton is going to just kick you out of his class for good.”

“No, he likes me too much,” Stiles mumbled distractedly. “I write the best essays.”

Scott couldn’t even fight him on that. It was true.

“Are you going to get something to eat on the way back to the dorm?” Scott questioned when they reached the student union plaza.

“Yeah maybe. I think I’m going to go to the library for a while and study. Do you have the summary?” Stiles answered.

Scott wordlessly handed over a piece of paper with his distinct and frankly terrible handwriting scribbled all over it and grinned. Stiles smiled back and bumped his friend’s offered fist.

“I’ll see you later, man,” he said with a wave before walking in the opposite direction, hearing Scott answer in kind.

It was about a fifteen minute walk to get to his next destination so he spent the time reading over the list Scott had given him and planning out what to study. Before he knew it he was standing in front of a familiar tall, brick building and stepping inside to the heated lobby.

Stiles stuffed the paper into a random pocket of his book bag while he waited for the elevator to ding its arrival. He stepped on, thankfully by himself, and hit the button with the number five on it.

He knew he shouldn’t be doing this anymore. He had told himself for the past couple weeks now that this needed to stop and that it wasn’t healthy and it was just so so wrong. For some reason though, Stiles just always felt drawn back and he really couldn’t help himself.

When the elevator doors opened again, he took a deep breath before exiting and walking the short distance to apartment number 513. Stiles didn’t give himself a chance to back out and knocked on the door in front of him sharply three times. It swung open immediately.

Derek stared at him for minute before moving aside in a practiced movement, his bare feet sliding along the carpet beneath him smoothly. Stiles stepped inside without a word. He was feeling a little jittery, like he always felt when he went to Derek’s but he knew that in a few minutes that he would be too distracted to even notice.

“Want something to drink?” Derek asked.

Stiles raised an eyebrow at him, letting his bag fall to the couch next to him. The amount of sarcasm he could put into one expression still stumped Derek sometimes. With an irritated huff, Derek stalked forward and pulled Stiles toward him roughly by the back of his neck until their lips were meeting in a fierce kiss.

Stiles immediately reacted, his arms going around the older man’s waist to grasp at his shirt and push it up eagerly so he could touch the warm skin of Derek’s back. They pulled away long enough for Derek to shed the offensive article of clothing before crashing back together with lips and tongue and teeth.

It was always like this—fast and rough and maybe just on the verge of painful. But that’s how they liked it. Occasionally (okay pretty much every time) they would bicker between heated kisses and licks and nibbles but that just made it even better. What could Stiles say? Angry sex was hot.

They stepped a well-known path to the bed, shedding clothes as they went until Stiles was pushing Derek back onto his springy mattress, both clad in only their boxers. He immediately dipped down to suck at the older man’s neck and bite at the muscles contracting and relaxing beneath him. Derek never made much noise in bed, only harsh breathing and sighs, the occasional moan; and Stiles was completely okay with that. He babbled enough as it was for the both of them and he also just maybe happened to like the strong silent type.

“Hurry up, Stiles,” Derek said gruffly and the younger man glared up at him from where he was currently nibbling his way across the skin resting at the waistband of his boxers. With a slightly sharper bite, which he received his own nasty glare for, Stiles pulled the last piece of clothing down without warning and took Derek into his mouth.

He felt Derek buck up a little and wished he could smirk in triumph. Instead he reached a hand up to stroke the base of Derek’s cock while he bobbed his head quickly and expertly, letting his tongue drag along the vein running across the bottom. Derek’s chest rose and fell quickly as his breathing grew more ragged. He even let escape a few pleased grunts.

Stiles felt warm fingers wind into his hair, knocking his hat off his head, eyes fluttering at the slight tug against his scalp.

“I hate that stupid hat you wear,” Derek breathed, letting his fingers run though messy brown locks before pulling at the strands roughly when Stiles sucked him down tighter. “You shouldn’t cover up your hair. It looks better like this.”

Stiles furrowed his brows a little at the somewhat compliment and pulled away with a dirty pop, a thin string of spit still attached between his bottom lip and the tip of Derek’s dick. He frowned at the other man who didn’t seem to notice his expression as he had his head thrown back against the mattress with his eyes closed. Derek had never complimented Stiles before. Sure he knew Derek must consider him attractive to have been sleeping with him for the past two months but the man had never actually said anything out loud to him.

“What are you doing?” Derek growled, his eyes narrowed at Stiles.

Stiles shook his head a bit, pulling himself from his thoughts. It wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t like Derek had called him beautiful or handsome or even sexy. He just liked to play with Stiles’ hair.

“Well I was wondering if I was going to be stuck doing all the work,” he answered snarkily (he just couldn’t help it) while he languidly stroked Derek beneath him.

“Get the lube,” Derek replied tonelessly.

Stiles rolled his eyes, reaching over to the bedside table to grab the bottle in there and a condom before sitting back in Derek’s lap, knees on either side of his hips. The position made his still covered dick brush against Derek’s and he fought back a moan at the sensation.

With his usual lack of grace, Stiles managed to pull his boxers off and send them flying into the corner of the room. He turned all the way around until his ass was directly in Derek’s face and then wiggled it a little just because he could.

“So this is how we’re doing it?” Derek asked drily with a raised eyebrow from where he peered around Stiles’ legs.

Stiles only wiggled his ass again before giving him a wink and leaning forward to continue what he had been doing. It was a moment before he felt Derek’s lubed up fingers running along his rim and he couldn’t hold back a shiver at the feeling. A finger slipped inside easily, pumping in and out slowly before another joined and Derek was reaching around to teasingly stroke his dick.

Derek’s own member fell from Stiles’ lips as he moaned at the sudden influx of stimulation, pushing back on the fingers scissoring him open. He was always enthusiastic in bed but he couldn’t even bring himself to be ashamed of it. He knew Derek secretly enjoyed the show he inadvertently put on.

A third finger joined the first two and Stiles gripped the sheets tightly as he whimpered at the bolt of pleasure which shot up his spine from the brush against his prostate. Derek was still slowly stroking his dick, using the pre-come that was dribbling from the tip to slick him up. Stiles was surprised the man hadn’t said anything yet about the lack of sucking on his part but with how good this felt, he didn’t care enough to question it.

Heat pooled in his belly and he bit his lip to stifle the near constant moans spilling out, letting his hips rock back and forth to the steady thrust of Derek’s fingers.

“Oh—oh god you need to hurry the fuck up before I come right now,” he choked out, groaning at a particularly accurate jab to his prostate.

Derek just continued to finger him though, not speeding up or slowing down, keeping a steady rhythm that drove Stiles crazy. He needed _more_.

“Derek!” he whined. He would take the time to be embarrassed about that later but he had bigger priorities right now. “If you don’t get your dick in me in the next ten seconds I’m going to—”

He cut off with a small gasp as Derek’s fingers withdrew, leaving him feeling empty. Stiles could almost cry in relief. _Finally_.

Large hands grasped his hips firmly and pulled him back until Derek’s mouth was suddenly resting against his hole.

Or not.

Stiles gasped even louder as he felt a probing tongue slide over his hole. Derek had never rimmed him before. Stiles had never even _been_ rimmed before. Not that he was complaining.

He pushed up from the bed, his back arching as Derek pushed his tongue past the rim and let out a long drawn out moan.

“Shit!” he exclaimed breathlessly, trying to stop himself from grinding down onto Derek’s face. “Derek—oh—fuck—”

Derek didn’t slow down—only tightened his hold on Stiles’ hips and pulled him closer as he ran his tongue all along his hole. The feeling was so surreal and unlike anything Stiles had felt before. He didn’t even realize he was about to come until it was already happening.

“Derek!” he almost yelled, his come spurting onto both of their stomachs in messy white stripes.

Derek lapped at his entrance slowly while he came down before Stiles fell forward in a loose heap. Derek was still hard and jutting up right in front of his face but he couldn’t even bring himself to try and return the favor. Instead he panted laboriously and tried to work the feeling back into his muscles.

“Holy…shit,” he said between breathes.

Derek kissed his ass cheek and then shoved him over onto the bed with a self-satisfied grin. Stiles only had enough energy to flip him off, stretching out on his side.

“What the hell was that?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

“Thought I’d try something new,” Derek answered with a shrug, ignoring his own persisting boner.

“Yeah well give a little warning next time,” Stiles attempted bitterly but his still breathless voice took away from the effect if Derek’s increasingly smug face was anything to go by.

Derek sat up on his elbows, dragging his eyes purposely down the length of Stiles’ body before meeting his gaze with a raised brow. “I didn’t see you complaining.”

Stiles huffed in annoyance, trying to will away the blush that Derek’s heated stare had made rise along his neck and cheeks. He was totally not embarrassed.

“Come on,” Derek gestured vaguely. “We’re not done yet.”

Stiles scowled at him, feeling just slightly used at the implication of being obligated to return the favor, not that he wouldn’t have on his own time. With a glare, he spun around and took Derek into his mouth anyways and sucked hard, his legs naturally tangling with Derek’s. Derek gasped and gripped the sheets.

“Not exactly what I meant but alright,” he said in a strained voice as he fought to keep his eyes from closing. The sight of Stiles’ lips stretched around him was too erotic and amazing to miss.

Stiles quirked in eyebrow, somehow managing to look questioning without relenting in bobbing his head up and down. Derek huffed out a laugh at the sight in…amusement. The only time he had ever been amused by Stiles was the second day of class when the gangly boy had tripped seemingly over air and dropped his open book bag on the floor, scattering everything inside. But this looked almost fond.

Was Stiles reading into things too much? And if he was… _why_? It’s not like he wanted Derek to actually like him. They hated each other and got off with each other and that was it. No messy emotions or relationships. They couldn’t even stand to be in the same class together without fighting.

And Stiles knew he didn’t like Derek. So what if he hadn’t slept with anyone else but Derek for the last two months? So what if he didn’t take up the offer of a date from that cute barista at Starbucks a couple weeks ago? So what if he maybe sort of enjoyed the stupid fights they got into more than he should?

Shit.

“Stiles,” Derek breathed, reaching a hand down to run it through the boy’s hair. “Come here.”

Stiles pulled off, suddenly feeling hesitant after such a revelation. He was never unsure in bed with Derek. He always took what he wanted and that was that. Derek didn’t seem to notice the change in demeanor (or he just didn’t say anything) as he pulled Stiles up so he could kiss him with force. For a moment, Stiles forgot what he was even freaking out about and let himself enjoy the slide of Derek’s tongue against his.

Stiles pulled away with a groan when he felt slick fingers probing back at his hole, sending a look toward Derek who was watching him with more heat than before.

“I told you we weren’t done yet,” he answered the unspoken question as he pushed in with two fingers.

Stiles keened, although he would deny it until his dying day, and leaned his head down against Derek’s shoulder to pant against the skin there, reaching to bite and suck at the tendon that flexed in front of him. His dick was trying valiantly to refill but his refractory period wasn’t _that_ good. It felt too good to protest though so he simply sat back and enjoyed it.

He didn’t miss the closeness of their position or the way Derek was stroking his back, massaging the muscles there and how intimate it all felt. More intimate than usual. They were less frenzied and harsh this time and he couldn’t remember Derek ever attempting to give him multiple orgasms before.

Stiles was half-hard before Derek seemed to decide that he couldn’t hold back anymore. He pulled his fingers out and snatched up the condom, quickly tearing it open. Stiles took it before he could do anything though and leaned back to roll the condom carefully onto Derek’s dick, using some lube to stroke him a few times. He was just getting off Derek to turn onto all fours before Derek stopped him with hands firm on his hips.

“No, like this,” Derek panted, his voice almost desperate and Stiles was powerless to do anything but agree.

With slightly shaky legs, Stiles settled himself so their pelvises were lined up before, sinking slowly down onto Derek and wow why hadn’t they tried it like this before? He didn’t think about how usually they would be too rushed to think about it and never much cared about anything other than getting off as soon as possible. This felt different and he was learning to like it.

Derek’s fingers were pressing insistently into the muscles of Stiles’ thighs, gripping him tight while his teeth clenched and Stiles knew he was already close to coming. So instead of riding him above and beyond, he took it slow, barely rising before falling back down, keeping a painfully slow pace. He wanted this to last.

Derek actually groaned at the feeling, his hips making aborted thrusts but the way Stiles refused to lift his hips up too high kept him from getting very far. Stiles let his hands run along the older man’s chest, his fingers dragging through the tendrils of dark hair there. Leaning down, he ran his tongue along his pec, brushing over his nipple, and moved his way up until he was sucking at Derek’s earlobe, moving up and down continuously, steadily, slowly.

“Stiles,” Derek breathed, his hands sliding back to hold Stiles’ ass in order to keep him close.

Stiles didn’t know when it happened but he was completely hard again and dripping precome onto Derek’s stomach already. He had no idea driving Derek crazy could affect him like this, too. He took it in stride though, reveling in the feeling of his dick sliding gently against Derek’s skin as he moved.

“Stiles, please,” Derek whispered, his voice choking a little on his name.

He had never heard the man sound so desperate. Never had he begged Stiles in favor of just taking what he wanted. It was oddly one of the sexiest things Derek had ever done.

Stiles, feeling like he was ready to explode, picked up the pace, rising higher and dropping down quicker. Derek started to meet his thrusts, nails digging into the muscles of Stiles’ ass and Stiles moaned loudly, panting wetly against Derek’s neck. It was just another moment before he felt one of Derek’s hands reach around to tug at his bobbing cock and he almost whimpered at the pleasure that went coursing through him.

Derek was starting to take back control now, pushing up into Stiles harder, stroking him in time with his thrusts. But he didn’t try to change the position. He let Stiles remain on top even though he could have easily turned them over by now.

“Derek I—” Stiles tried but a shudder went through him as Derek hit his prostate with a particularly hard thrust.

“What, Stiles?” Derek asked roughly. “What do you need?”

“Just this,” Stiles answered around a long moan. “Oh god Derek—I’m so close.”

Derek gave a few more deep thrusts before Stiles was coming again, his brain whiting out for a moment, or at least it felt like it. He had his eyes clenched tight, his fingers grasping at any part of Derek’s shoulders he could as he gasped his way through the orgasm. It was hard to believe it was so intense considering it was his second one in under an hour.

It didn’t take long for Derek to fall over the edge, groaning lowly as he froze inside Stiles while the younger man came back down. They collapsed against each other, Derek slipping out as Stiles fell to his chest with a small huff of unbelieving laughter.

“Well that was unexpected,” Stiles breathed, warm air tickling the skin of Derek’s chest as he spoke.

Derek tensed under him a bit and Stiles sat up to peer at him curiously. They separated so Derek could get rid of the condom and Stiles frowned down at the old and new come on his stomach with a look of distaste.

“I’m gonna clean up,” he said before going to the bathroom.

He spent longer than necessary wiping the mess away from his skin with a wet washcloth, a bit nervous about confronting Derek again. It was clear that this time was different than every other time and he had no idea how to handle it. Was there a reason Derek seemed to be acting just a bit nicer? He didn’t seem any nicer earlier in class.

Stiles bit his lip nervously as he stared at his reflection in the bathroom, sucking in a deep breathe in preparation. When he finally went back into the bedroom, he found Derek sitting on the edge of the bed with his arms lazily leaning against his knees. Stiles wasn’t entirely sure what he was thinking but he had a feeling that it was related to his own thoughts.

He silently grabbed his clothes and started to dress. Derek turned at the noise and gave him a surprised glance at the sight of him dressing before his expression went blank once more. It was unnerving so Stiles quickened his pace before looking at him a final time.

“I’ll see you later,” he mumbled, rushing out of the room and grabbing his bag on the way out of the apartment.

Once he was outside, he sighed and came to a decision: ignore the weirdness until it…went away. That was his basic coping method for most things and while he knew it usually didn’t work out well, he would rather do that than actually face his problems (was it even a problem?).

With that, he walked back to the dorm room he shared with Scott. The other boy was already there when he stepped inside and offered a nod in acknowledgement from where he sat on his bed, doing something on his laptop.

“I thought you’d be later,” Scott said vaguely.

“Yea I kind of just gave up,” Stiles answered. “Just wasn’t feeling it.”

Scott nodded absentmindedly.

“I think I’m gonna take a nap,” Stiles said.

“Yeah okay. I’ll keep it down,” Scott responded with more nodding.

Stiles sighed quietly, pulling off his shoes before falling straight into his bed. He just needed to ignore it…

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Stiles slammed his way into the apartment, thankful the door was unlocked when he got there. The door banged shut behind him as he stalked farther into the room. Derek was standing, leaning against his breakfast bar, and staring down at a book before his head snapped up in confusion at Stiles’ noisy entrance.

“What the hell?” he asked but Stiles was already heading toward him.

Derek barely had enough time to set his book down on the counter, page number forgotten, before Stiles was falling against him with his entire body, lips pushing against his in a bruising kiss. Stiles had Derek’s hair fisted in his hands, a knee between his legs, and his tongue swiping angrily into the other man’s mouth. Derek could do nothing but follow along.

When Stiles started pulling Derek toward the bedroom, his lips latching onto his shoulder and sucking, Derek finally gasped out, “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Stiles growled, nipping a little harder than he probably should have at Derek’s skin.

Stiles shoved him back onto the bed Derek hadn’t even realized they’d already reached and ripped his own shirt off quickly before joining him. His movements were hurried and rough, so much like their first time together.

“Stiles,” Derek murmured, gently pushing Stiles back from where he had been shoving Derek’s shirt up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Stiles answered flatly, going to push his shirt up again.

“Stiles.”

Derek’s firm tone made the other man pause, jaw clenched as he stared at the sheets next to Derek’s shoulder. He didn’t answer for a moment, but Derek didn’t push anymore, settling for running his hands along Stiles’ hips and waist.

“I just had a real shitty day,” Stiles finally bit out, “and all I want to do is have angry sex.”

Derek stared at him for a minute with narrowed eyes. Then Stiles met his gaze, bronze eyes blazing.

“That’s what we do right?”

The question almost sounded like a challenge, even to Stiles’ own ears and it brought with it a tense air after the words were out. Derek didn’t seem likely to answer anytime soon and Stiles was ready to get up and leave before the man reached out and yanked him down to kiss him deeply.

Relief flooded through him at the action. Maybe they were on the same page after all. Maybe nothing else was going on here. It was the same as it had always been.

“I wanna fuck you this time,” Stiles said quietly as he moved to kiss Derek’s neck again.

It wasn’t new for Stiles to top, though it was a bit rare. They had only done it that way a couple times before but today Stiles just really needed to be in full control. Luckily, Derek nodded his head in answer.

They didn’t take long to undress or prep. Derek seemed to realize Stiles just needed to get it out of his system. He didn’t even make any snappy comments which made the situation better and worse for Stiles so he kissed the man beneath him as much as he could as a way to convince himself that was why. By the time he was pushing into Derek, both of their lips were swollen and a little numb but Stiles ignored the tingly feeling that lingered in order to lean down and bite and suck at Derek’s sensitive neck.

Stiles didn’t waste any time drawing it out, thrusting deep and hard as soon as Derek was adjusted and the older man took it in stride, pulling him in deeper with his feet pressed into the dips of Stiles’ lower back. Derek didn’t make much noise as usual, mostly panting breathes and a few low groans. Surprisingly, neither did Stiles. He simply continued to push in and out, harsh breathes escaping from between his open lips as he stared down at where the two met, eyes never wavering.

Despite being in a taking mood, Stiles still managed to get Derek off before he came, stroking Derek in rough pulls out of time with his thrusts until he was spurting all over his own stomach. Stiles hovered for a moment over him, leaning on hands placed around Derek’s head with his own head hung low and gasping softly for air until he slipped out and tied the condom off.

Derek didn’t stop him when he moved to get dressed, only watched him quietly from his position still on the bed. When Stiles sat on the edge of the mattress to put his shoes back on, Derek moved to sit behind him, leaning forward to kiss the younger man’s neck slowly, up to his ear where he gently nibbled his earlobe. Stiles’ movements slowed but he didn’t stop dressing.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked, softer than before.

Stiles was tense, back straight and head facing forward. He didn’t answer for a long while, so Derek continued to litter exposed skin with wet kisses.

“Like I said—shitty day,” Stiles answered eventually.

“Why?” Derek asked.

“Why does it matter?” His voice wavered a bit but his body didn’t relax any.

Derek sighed and fell back on his hands away from Stiles.

“I guess it doesn’t.”

Stiles nodded absentmindedly, running a hand through his hair before abruptly standing up and grabbing his hoodie from the floor. He muttered something Derek couldn’t understand and then ran out of the room like he was being chased though Derek didn’t move an inch from his place on the bed.

This was the second time Stiles had run away just after sex. It wasn’t like he stuck around for long any other time but he usually lingered long enough to bicker lazily with Derek while he waited for his body to regain feeling. These last two times though had just felt like so much… _more_. And it was scaring the hell out of him.

“Hey, man,” Scott greeted when he walked into their room. He looked like he was on his laptop but it was placed at the end of the bed, too far for typing. Then Stiles heard another voice greet him and held in a groan.

“Hey, Stiles!” Allison said through the webcam and Scott turned the laptop so Stiles could see her waving sweetly at him.

“Hey,” he mumbled back.

The couple frowned, glancing at each other through the screen.

“You okay?” Scott asked tentatively.

“Yeah,” Stiles answered shortly, removing his shoes, movements a littler harsher than they really needed to be.

Scott frowned at the answer but didn’t push. It was clear Stiles didn’t feel like talking at the moment seeing as he was stuffing earbuds into his ears and blasting his music on shuffle as he laid down on his bed, facing toward the wall. He could still hear muffled conversation between Scott and Allison but ignored it in favor of glaring at the _Star Wars_ poster positioned directly in his line of sight. The first song wasn’t even over before a heavy weight fell on top of his side and Scott’s face appeared in front of him.

With a sigh, Stiles pulled the headphones out and rolled onto his back so that Scott could settle more comfortably on his stomach. He should have known better than to believe his best friend would ignore his strange attitude.

“So are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Scott asked after a few moments.

“Do I have to?” Stiles grumbled petulantly. He wasn’t going to make it easy.

“Is it a Derek thing?”

Stiles tensed, glancing down at his friend’s face but Scott seemed perfectly normal and comfortable. He couldn’t know…right?

“I didn’t have class with him today. You know that.”

“Well he’s the only one I’ve seen who can really put you in a mood like this,” Scott defended with his hands up in surrender.

Stiles grunted, not really agreeing or disagreeing because weirdly enough, it wasn’t Derek that had put him into this mood. Of course his questions and out of character gentleness hadn’t helped much.

“Did you fail a class?”

“No.”

“A test?”

“No.”

“Did you get into another fight with Harris?”

“No.”

“Did you…get the wrong order at McDonalds again?”

Stiles felt his lips twitch a little.

“No.”

“Did you…did…did someone break up with you?”

Stiles eyebrows furrowed and he looked down at Scott.

“What?”

“You’ve seemed pretty distant lately. You can’t seriously be going to the library all the time.”

The matter of fact way that Scott said it had Stiles sputtering a little, trying to find a response as panic overtook him. Maybe Scott did know. He thought he had been so careful.

“I mean it’s cool if you don’t want to talk about it, man,” Scott continued. “I figured it wasn’t anything serious if you hadn’t told me about it.”

Stiles was still unsure how to respond and so stayed silent, knowing Scott would understand that that meant he was right. Which he was. Mostly.

“So is that what happened? Did you guys…break up or whatever?”

“No,” Stiles sighed.

He sat up, forcing Scott to move as well, and leaned back against the wall with his legs pulled close and his arms resting against his bent knees. Scott let him stay quiet while he stared at the bedspread beneath him until he looked up at his friend with wary eyes.

“I got into a fight with my dad earlier,” Stiles said quietly.

“About what?” Scott asked with a look of genuine confusion.

Probably because Stiles and the Sheriff never seriously fought. Sure they bickered and teased all the time and things got a little heated sometimes but Stiles couldn’t really say they had ever gotten into a real fight. It wasn’t worth it when they were really all each other had for so long.

“He couldn’t get Christmas off at the station,” Stiles explained. “He said they were short on staff because there were a lot of deputies with young kids who got precedence over others. So he has to work the whole week I’m supposed to go home, including all of Christmas day. And I don’t know I just…”

Stiles sighed again, running his hands through his hair and mussing it up worse than it already was.

“I just got so mad. Not at him really just in general. But somehow it turned into this big argument until I didn’t even know what we were fighting about anymore.”

Scott sat silent for a moment, legs crisscrossed on the bed, just inches from touching Stiles. With a sad smile, he reached forward and rested a hand on one of Stiles’ knees in comfort.

“I just miss my dad,” Stiles muttered. “And every Christmas we…we always…”

“Visit your mom,” Scott finished for him and Stiles nodded.

“I fucked up Scott,” Stiles said from where he was now cradling his face in his hands.

Scott frowned at his friend in concern. “What do you mean?

“I just yelled at him.” Stiles glanced up at him. “I told him I wasn’t even going to bother coming home then which is such a lie because there is no way I’m staying _here_ for Christmas. And then I went over to De—” Scott raised an eyebrow. “My _friend’s_ place and he tried to make me feel better and I was a total dick.”

“Did you tell him what was wrong?”

“No. I just ran out as fast as I could.” Stiles groaned, letting his head fall back against the wall with a small thump. “Today sucks.”

“I think you need a break,” Scott stated, patting his knee before standing up.

“What?”

“You’ve been crazy busy all semester and haven’t taken the chance to relax. So I say we go out and get drunk tonight,” his friend explained as he shoved some shoes onto his feet.

“It’s a Thursday…” Stiles said slowly.

“So we’ll just skip class tomorrow.”

He stared at Scott like the other man had grown a second head but his friend only continued to grin. What hell was going on?

“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

Scott smirked then and the expression was one so rare for Stiles to see on his face that he knew the situation was serious.

“Come on. I’ll even pay for your drinks.”

And how could Stiles give up that opportunity?

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Stiles was drunk.

He was very very drunk. More drunk then he probably should be in public.

Unfortunately, Scott was also drunk. Though neither of them found anything wrong with this until it was nearing closing time and they realized there was no way they were driving back to their dorm on their own.

The club they went to wasn’t very busy seeing as it was still a week day and apparently the establishment closed early on those days. So at midnight, Scott and Stiles found themselves stumbling out onto the sidewalk, grappling at each other in order to stay standing and laughing at nothing.

“How’re we gonna get home?” Stiles slurred, falling back against the concrete wall.

“No idea dude,” Scott answered before promptly sitting down in the middle of the sidewalk.

Stiles huffed out a laugh at his friend and then joined him, leaning against Scott’s more sturdy shoulder and resting his head there. His eyes were drooped so low they were practically closed and his head was spinning in dangerous ways. He just wanted a bed as soon as possible so he could sleep this off.

“Do ya think my dad hates me?” Stiles mumbled tiredly, his head lolling back and forth.

“No!” Scott protested vehemently. “Never. You just gotta…you just gotta talk to ‘im.”

“What if he doesn’t wanna talk to me?”

“He will.”

Scott’s sure attitude made Stiles feel a little better because if anyone knew him and his dad, it was his best friend. And okay maybe he gets a little sappy when he’s drunk and he’ll basically believe anything Scott could tell him. Still doesn’t change anything.

“Thanks, bro,” Stiles hiccupped. “You’re the best bro to ever…bro.”

Scott breathed out what sounded suspiciously like a giggle but before either man could say another word, the door to the club opened again and someone was stepping outside.

“Scott?”

Scott whipped his head around, jostling Stiles who slipped off his shoulder and face planted into his lap. If he wasn’t so drunk, he might have been a bit more disgusted at having a face full of his best friend’s junk.

“Isaac?”

“You’re still here?”

Stiles rolled onto his back, leaving his head to rest where it was and stared up at the upside down image of whoever ‘Isaac’ was. He appeared to be pretty tall with tousled curls. Stiles couldn’t discern anything else about him because his vision was a little blurry and he was starting to get dizzy from the position.

“Yeah we can’t drive home,” Scott answered, a dopey grin on his face.

Isaac raised an eyebrow at the duo as Scott began to idly run his fingers through Stiles’ hair. Stiles sighed and let his eyes fall shut, on the verge of falling asleep right there on the ground.

“We’re too drunk,” he supplied with a wild wave of his hand and heard Isaac snort.

“I can see that.”

“Do you work here?” Scott asked suddenly.

“Yeah…I served you a few times,” Isaac answered in confusion. Stiles could almost hear the frown.

“Oh.”

It was quiet for a moment and Stiles was just beginning to drift into sleep before Isaac spoke up again.

“So do you guys need a ride…?”

“That would be great!” Scott said enthusiastically, beginning to stand up.

Stiles groaned at the movement, forcing himself to sit up so he wouldn’t be dropped onto the concrete. Blinking his eyes against the ensuing dizziness he let Scott pull him up clumsily by his armpits and set him on his feet.

“My brother is picking me up but maybe he can drop you off at your dorm and I can follow in your car so you don’t have to come pick it up tomorrow,” Isaac suggested, eyeing them wearily as Scott supported Stiles with an arm around his waist.

“You’re the best, dude,” Scott said with a grin.

Isaac gave him a small smile in return, turning to look at the parking lot and spotting Stiles’ Jeep standing alone in the middle. Just a moment later, a sleek black Camaro pulled up, headlights blinding and the best friends winced, squeezing their eyes shut against the brightness.

They took a moment to recover when they shut off and someone stepped out.

“Hey, Derek,” Isaac called.

Scott whipped his head up to find none other than Derek Hale standing there, watching him and Stiles in confusion and something else he couldn’t place. Isaac was Derek’s brother? How was that even possible? They didn’t look anything alike.

“Sco…” Stiles muttered. “I dun feel good.”

Scott turned back to his friend, trying to keep him held up on his feet but the man was growing limper in his arms, his face mushed against Scott’s chest. He burped a little and Scott pleaded with any god that was listening for him not to throw up, especially on him.

“Hey,” Isaac said, touching his shoulder. “Derek said he would drive you guys back.”

“Oh, uh thanks,” Scott said, glancing at the man in question who was gradually moving closer. There was way too much going on and he was far too drunk to handle it all.

Stiles was babbling under his breathe, what sounded like another language for all Scott could understand. Isaac looked on in slight amusement.

“Where are his keys?”

Scott maneuvered the sagging weight in his arms, feeling around Stiles’ pockets until he found his car keys and managed to hand them to Isaac with a distracted smile. He hefted the man up again as he started slipping to the ground again.

“Here.”

The word was grunted emotionlessly and suddenly Stiles was being lifted from his arms and into a bridal carry in Derek’s. Scott stared in a mix of confusion and awe for a minute as his friend’s head dangled before resting against Derek’s shoulder, his eyes shut.

“Um…”

“I’ll follow you guys,” Isaac interrupted the moment and Derek gave a curt nod.

He went about putting Stiles in the backseat of his Camaro while Scott watched, frozen in his place for a moment. Why was Derek so willingly helping the person he probably hated most in this world? There was no benefit Scott could see for the grumpy TA yet there he was, carefully strapping his best friend into the seat with a seatbelt and closing the door.

“You coming?” he barked and Scott jumped into action, hurrying into the passenger seat.

The drive was…awkward. And quiet. The only time Scott spoke for the first five minutes was to tell Derek what dorm he lived in. He felt like he should say something, maybe even apologize, though he didn’t know what for. Stiles was still mumbling in the back, words Scott couldn’t decipher though he thought he heard the words “dad” and “work”.

And then he heard: “Der…”

Scott glanced at Derek, noting his clenched jaw and tight hold on the steering wheel. Apparently he had heard it too. Something else seemed to be fighting for purchase in his expression though. What looked like…concern. And Scott had no idea why the man would be feeling that…unless…unless…

 _“And then I went over to De—my_ friend’s _place_.”

Holy shit.

Scott looked back at Stiles and then turned to stare at Derek with his mouth agape. He couldn’t even bother with trying to hide it. Derek glanced at him from the corner of his eye and scowled at what he found.

“What?” he grit out.

“You and Stiles,” Scott blurted without meaning to. Alcohol always gave him a looser tongue.

“What?” Derek repeated, voice still carefully blank.

“Nothing!” Scott tried to rectify, moving so his eyes were trained to the dark sky outside his window. “Nothing.”

Derek didn’t answer and they remained silent for the rest of the drive. Luckily it was only another few minutes and Scott was able to tumble out of the Camaro as soon as it was parked in front of his dorm.

“I’ll carry him up,” Derek said gruffly, pulling Stiles out of the backseat easily.

Scott only nodded hesitantly and went about showing the way to their room. The dorm was quiet and empty, everyone already asleep because of class the next day so they didn’t run into anyone on the way up to the third floor. Scott almost wished there was some kind of music playing in the elevator because the tense silence between he and Derek was beginning to surpass uncomfortable.

“Just lay him on that bed over there,” Scott said once they were in their room, gesturing toward Stiles’ messy bed to the left.

Derek put Stiles down gently and began pulling his shoes off to Scott’s surprise. He even took the man’s hoodie off, hooking it over the computer chair next to him, and pulled the covers over Stiles’ pliant body. Stiles was well and truly passed out, not moving at all once Derek had him settled and beginning to drool unattractively on his pillow.

“Thanks, Derek,” Scott said quietly.

The older man nodded, going to leave the room but Scott stopped him before he could with a hand wrapped around his forearm.

“Look I don’t know what is going on between you and Stiles,” Scott spoke lowly, suddenly sounding a lot more sober than he probably was, “but just be careful, okay. Stiles has a habit of getting into things that aren’t good for him and I don’t know if you’re one of those things but no matter what—if you hurt him? I’ll hurt you.”

Derek stared down at him with surprise, eyebrows furrowed at the threat. Scott had never seemed particularly dangerous or intimidating before but he could see the seriousness in the man’s face and wasn’t willing to test him. With a jerky nod, Derek pulled away and headed out the door.

“Tell Isaac I said thank you, too,” Scott called just as the door was closing behind him.

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

Stiles’ groans of pain echoed out from the bathroom again and Scott chuckled under his breath. Not that he was feeling all that much better. He had yet to throw up though.

“Why did you do this to me?” Stiles whined loudly.

“You did this to yourself buddy!” Scott called in return.

It was a good thing their suitemates were in class and wouldn’t need their shared bathroom for a while. Stiles had been in there since the moment he woke up at 7:43 this morning and hadn’t left yet except when Scott kicked him out to go pee. He had actually only thrown up the one time but he refused to leave the bathroom, claiming that he was dying.

“My stomach and liver are battling for dominance inside me and in the process, destroying every other living organ until there’s nothing left and you’re out there laughing at me and not accepting blame where its due,” Stiles complained, voice hitching at the end of his sentence as if he was fighting back the urge to retch.

Case in point.

“You’re not dying,” Scott said, with a roll of his eyes and rubbed his temples delicately. His aspirin had still yet to kick in.

After another few minutes of Stiles moaning in over-exaggerated despair, the man himself finally emerged from the bathroom and collapsed on his bed, curling up on his side and stuffing his face into his pillow.

“I’m never drinking again,” he mumbled, voice muffled.

“That’s what you said last time you had a hangover,” Scott reminded, laying his head down slowly so as not to insight any more flashes of pain through his skull.

“I mean it this time. Never again.”

They sat in silence for a moment and Scott was almost sure his best friend had fallen back asleep until he heard him speak up again, voice clearer than before. “What happened after karaoke?”

Scott turned to see him peering over at him and frowned. “You don’t remember?”

“Dude I’ve been puking my guts out all morning,” Scott rolled his eyes, “so obviously I was pretty drunk last night.”

“Well we got kicked out at midnight and we had to find a ride back.”

“I remember a black car,” Stiles mumbled, face scrunched as he tried to remember more.

“Yeah that was…uh…Derek’s car.” Scott winced.

“Derek?” Stiles said flatly, face remarkably blank all of a sudden.

“Yeah. He’s Isaac’s brother apparently and was coming to pick him up after his shift. He gave us a ride back.” Scott didn’t mention how Derek had carried Stiles and tucked him into bed or the fact that he knew now that the two were…doing _something_ together.

“Who’s Isaac?”

“Oh, yeah! He’s in my _Principles of Animal Nutrition_ class,” Scott answered, excitedly. “He bartends at the club I guess. Pretty cool guy.”

“Uh-huh…” Stiles nodded vaguely. “And he’s Derek’s brother?”

“Yeah I mean he said his ‘brother’ was picking him up from work and then Derek was there,” Scott shrugged. “I don’t really know how it works. I mean they look nothing alike. Maybe they’re step-brothers or something.”

“Cool.”

A few moments went by and then:

“So did Derek say anything?” Stiles asked, obviously forcing himself to sound nonchalant. Scott tried not to grin in amusement.

“Not really no. It was kind of awkward actually,” Scott answered truthfully.

“Hmm…”

“So are you gonna call your dad today?”

Stiles sighed, long and suffering, rolling around on his bed until he was laying on his back and staring at the ceiling, mirroring Scott’s own position. He ran fingers through his hair, squinting his eyes against the sunlight coming through the window.

He should. He definitely should call his dad. But Stiles was a fan or ignoring problems, like he was doing with Derek. He figured it was easier then facing them and having to deal with an inevitable big blow out. This way he could just let things fade away until the problem didn’t even exist anymore.

He wasn’t saying it was the healthy route or anything—just easier.

Stiles sighed again.

“Yeah…yeah I guess.”

“You should,” Scott encouraged. “You know your dad will understand. Better than anyone. I doubt he likes the idea of working on Christmas any more than you and he’ll still want to see you. He was probably planning on taking some time off too so you guys could go visit your mom.”

Dammit, Scott. How did he always manage to be right about everything?

“I’ll call him when my head stops spinning,” Stiles answered with a flop of his hand as acknowledgement.

Scott nodded just slightly and they slipped into silence once again. Neither seemed particularly inclined to speak now or even get up for that matter and Stiles found himself drifting off again when his phone rang loudly from right next to his ear. He groaned loudly with a wince, almost knocking his phone onto the floor in his attempt to make the damn thing stop ringing.

“Hullo,” he grunted once he finally had it in his hand.

“Please tell me you did not just wake up.”

“Hey, Lydia,” Stiles sighed.

“Why are you answering your phone? Don’t you have class today?” she asked with a disapproving tone.

“If you knew I’m supposed to be in class, why did you call me?”

Scott snorted in amusement from his bed.

“I was going to leave a voicemail,” Lydia responded, the drawn out ‘duh’ implied.

“I’m extremely hung-over and skipped class and it’s all Scott’s fault so you can blame him,” he babbled.

Scott squawked out an indignant “hey!”

“Good! That means we can go get lunch,” Lydia chirped happily.

“What part of ‘ _extremely hung-over_ ’ don’t you understand?” Stiles protested.

“The part that means you can’t still go get lunch with me,” she answered. “Meet me at Ginger’s in an hour! Bye!”

Stiles didn’t get a chance to refuse before she was hanging up on him and he groaned again, letting his phone fall from his fingers and bounce onto the floor.

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

“I hate you so much.”

“Would you take those ridiculous things off?”

“No.”

“Stiles.”

“It’s too bright.”

“Stiles!”

“I’m hung-over, Lydia!”

Lydia reached over the table and snatched the pair of sunglasses off of Stiles’ face before he could react and he hissed at the light that hit his sensitive eyes.

“You’re such a baby,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m pretty sure I actually drank my weight in alcohol last night,” Stiles moaned, letting his head fall to the table.

“And I’m pretty sure that’s impossible so stop whining,” Lydia threw back.

“Why did you want to have lunch with me so bad anyways?” Stiles asked, peering up at her.

They were sitting in a booth along the wall opposite of the long line of windows. The diner wasn’t too busy since it was still midday on a Friday so at least Stiles could enjoy the semi-quiet. Although Lydia’s pestering wasn’t helping his splitting headache any.

“Is it weird that I wanted to see one of my best friends who hasn’t even tried to contact me in the past week even though we go to the same school?” she asked with a slight sharpness of tone.

Stiles winced at the words, sighing a long suffering sigh as he sat up again to slump back in his seat. He looked at her guiltily, his fingers fidgeting with the silverware in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I’ve been busy and things have been…complicated.”

He rubbed at his forehead agitatedly, already knowing that his headache wasn’t going anywhere with the way this conversation was starting out. When Lydia was irritated, she confronted you at full force.

“You couldn’t call?” she asked. “Scott told me you’ve been weirdly distant.”

“He what?”

“Is something going on you’re not telling us?”

“Wait, what?” Stiles blurted with a shake of his head. “Nothing’s going on! Like I said, I’ve just been busy. I’ve had a lot more coursework this semester than I expected.”

“Is that what you’re doing at _the library_ all the time?” she asked, her tone on the words ‘the library’ suggestive of metaphorical quotations. Stiles narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just that Scott said you spend more time there than at the dorm.”

“Well, like I said…I have a lot of schoolwork.”

They stared at each other for a moment, both with straight impassive faces and neither backing down. Finally, Lydia shrugged minutely and moved to gaze at the table thoughtfully. The action only made Stiles even antsier.

“So, are you seeing anyone?”

“What?” Stiles sputtered.

“It’s a simple question, Stiles,” Lydia intoned clearly. “Are you. Seeing. Anyone?”

“No,” Stiles answered quickly. “No. I would have told you and Scott if I was.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Lydia’s considering gaze held an almost physical presence and Stiles found himself shifting uneasily under it. He really needed to find some female friends that weren’t so scary.

“What did Scott tell you? Did he say I was seeing someone? Because I’m not,” he babbled.

“Scott didn’t say anything but you just did,” she returned with a satisfied smirk.

Stiles froze, mentally going through his previous words and unable to find any hints toward him being in a relationship. He didn’t even know why the thought of Lydia knowing he was messing around with Derek terrified him so much. She didn’t even know him. Maybe because she would tell Scott and there was no way his best friend would ever let it go. Or maybe because Lydia tended to be annoyingly invested in his relationships. Or maybe (most definitely) because it wasn’t serious or even really a relationship no matter much how much Stiles had started to really want it to be.

“What?” he finally choked out.

“You are way too nervous to not be hiding something from me,” she explained and then her expression softened. “You know you can talk to me, Stiles.”

He sighed, closing his eyes briefly against the headache that still pounded against his skull. Peeking out at her with one eye, he found her patiently waiting for him to start talking and realized he wasn’t getting out of this any time soon.

“I know, Lydia,” he mumbled. “I’ve just been…stressed lately. I got into a fight with my dad yesterday and—”

“You got into a fight with your dad?” she asked with concern.

“Yeah, he’s…he’s working on Christmas and I got irrationally mad at him because I’ve had my mind on…other things recently,” Stiles spoke with just a bit of bitterness.

“What other things?” Lydia nudged.

“Do we really have to do this?” Stiles whined, his forehead finding its place on the table once again.

Lydia didn’t get a chance to answer as the waitress came up with their plates of food and set them down in front of them. With a passing query of their other needs, she left and Stiles was left to pick his head back up and meet Lydia’s unsurprisingly firm stare, one perfect eyebrow raised in expectation. He’d give her credit where it was due—she wasn’t a quitter.

“I’m sleeping with Derek Hale,” he muttered in defeat, immediately stuffing a handful of fries into his mouth to avoid talking anymore.

It was almost comical the way Lydia’s eyes bulged, something Stiles had never seen from her before. It was no easy feat, surprising Lydia Martin—the woman seemed to know everything at all times.

“Derek _Hale_?” she hissed, leaning forward as if to keep everyone else from hearing. Not like they would care about the topic of conversation one bit. “The same Derek Hale that you hate? The same one you fight with on almost a daily basis? _That_ Derek Hale?”

He nodded cautiously, mouth still full of potato. He only stuffed more in, sincerely hoping it would suffice in keeping him from having to answer with actual words.

“What the _hell_!” she exclaimed, voice going higher than usual and he cringed. “How did I not see this coming?” Stiles frowned. “How long has this been going on?”

He chewed slowly, trying to put off the inevitable but her unwavering glare wasn’t leaving any time soon so he swallowed thickly and mumbled his answer. She raised her eyebrows, irritation clear on her face and he cleared his throat before pronouncing with gritted teeth, “Almost three months.”

Lydia seemed frozen, in what he didn’t know. Shock—maybe? Anger—probably. She really _really_ hated being kept out of the loop.

Before he could try to placate the situation a little, if at all, the last possible person he wanted to see at that moment walked through the door. He may have whimpered a little. And Lydia may have noticed. And she may have whipped her head toward the door before fixing a disbelieving glare on him.

Shit.

“Oh god…could this get any worse?” he lamented, sliding down in his seat.

“DerBear!”

A girl flew by and slammed into Derek’s chest in a tight hug. He rolled his eyes good-naturedly before wrapping his own arms around her waist. Stiles could feel his stomach rolling and this time it wasn’t because of his hangover. He averted his eyes back to his food where his fingers were ripping apart his fries.

“Hey, Laura,” he heard Derek say with so much fondness he wanted to throw up.

“What took you so long to get here? You’re like twenty minutes late.”

The duo walked past and Stiles kept his eyes trained on his plate. He could have sworn Derek paused by their table for a minute but he didn’t say anything so Stiles figured it was just a trick of his imagination. Lydia kept quiet thankfully; he could feel her gaze on him though he wasn’t willing to meet it just yet.

“I got distracted grading papers,” Derek said, sitting in a booth with ‘Laura’ just one down behind Stiles. Ample hearing range.

“Ugh, you’re always grading. Do you ever do anything fun?” Laura teased and he could hear Derek cough a little.

“You know I’m busy.”

“Yeah well not while I’m here. We’re going to go out on the town this weekend. I don’t get to see you that often. I miss you.”

Stiles clenched his jaw.

“I miss you, too, Laur,” Derek murmured.

Lydia reached over and stopped him from ripping apart his fries anymore and he looked up at her. She was watching him carefully, eyes thoughtful as if she was figuring out exactly what was going on in his mind. Which, knowing Lydia, was exactly what was happening.

“Erica and Boyd miss you, too…even if you do live in the same town,” Laura continued conversationally. “They want to go on a double date soon.”

Derek groaned. “You know I hate those.”

“I don’t see why,” Laura muttered grumpily. “They’re fun.”

“No,” Derek answered flatly. “They’re really not.”

“Stop being such a sourpuss.”

Stiles stood abruptly, hitting his knee on the bottom of the table as he went but he barely felt it. He pulled out his wallet, threw a few bills on the table without knowing how much it really was and strode toward the door.

He remembered the first time he’d called Derek that in one of their debates during class. The man had looked so confused and then so offended that Stiles had been hard pressed not to bust out laughing. He made it a point to call him that as often as possible afterwards, to the point where Derek almost seemed desensitized to it and it became a sort of nickname.

It was ridiculous of Stiles to be jealous. He wasn’t in a relationship with Derek or even kind of dating him. He got off with him when they needed it and they hated each other at all other times. Except Stiles had noticed a change in the last month. He hadn’t even slept with Derek more than 5 times in the past three weeks. One night he’d even gone over to get off only to fall asleep on Derek’s couch after the man refused to have sex in the tired state Stiles was in and distracted him with reruns of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. and food. Stiles woke up late into the night with a blanket tucked around him and his shoes taken off his feet. Derek had been missing from the living room so he’d run out as fast as he could so he could panic in the safety of his jeep.

And maybe that was why Derek was reconciling or whatever he was doing with his girlfriend. It wasn’t as if Stiles ever gave a sign of wanting anything more than sex. But that didn’t forgive Derek. Was he dating her this whole time? Had he just been cheating with Stiles? The familiarity between the two suggested that they had at least known each other for a long time and that thought more than anything bothered Stiles. Especially because the man had been so willing to fall into bed with him yesterday. He didn’t think Derek could be that shitty of a person.

“Stiles!”

Stiles sighed when he heard the call and slowed his steps at the sound of hurried high-heeled clacking against the sidewalk. Lydia caught up in no time, despite being only 5’3”, and grabbed his arm in a vice grip to turn him around.

“So nothing’s going on with you, huh?” she huffed.

Stiles sighed again.

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

They were staring at him, expectant eyebrows and tilted mouths, and it was seriously driving him bat shit crazy.

“Will you please stop looking at me like that?!” Stiles burst out. “I’m not about to have a nervous breakdown or anything. You guys are seriously freaking me out.”

The only thing that really changed were Lydia’s lips which pulled tighter into a firm line of disapproval at his outburst.

“Seriously what do you want from me?” he tried again, weaker this time.

“How about you start with what just happened at the diner?” Lydia proposed.

“Don’t you have to go to class or something?” Stiles muttered, irritably, avoiding eye contact as much as possible by spinning in his computer chair until he got too dizzy to continue and had to clutch at his desk in order not to topple over.

“You know I don’t have Friday classes. Now,” Lydia stated, leaning forward, “talk.”

“What do you want me to say, Lydia?” Stiles sighed, expression helpless as he looked at her wearily. “That I slept with Derek for almost three months (Scott gaped a little at this declaration) and it turns out he has a girlfriend which means it’s obviously over and that’s that?”

“That’s that?” she replied, incredulously. “Seriously, Stiles? Are you honestly so emotionally stunted that you can’t even admit that you have feelings for him?”

Scott started laughing and they both turned to look at him bewildered. He seemed to notice that all the attention was suddenly on him and quickly gained control of himself, coughing a little to cover up the stray chuckles.

“What?” he asked innocently. “I mean come on Lydia. They hate each other. I mean even if they were sleeping together (he shot Stiles a pointed look and he hung his head in shame dutifully) that doesn’t mean it was anything more than sex.”

“I swear, Scott. Sometimes you are the most unobservant male I’ve ever met. It’s a wonder you and Allison ever managed to keep your relationship a secret from her parents for so long,” Lydia groaned, letting her head fall back and her eyes slip shut as if she was praying to the heavens for a reprieve.

Scott made an offended expression but then seemed to realize what she was saying and whipped his head around to stare at Stiles who had found interest in his hands which were rested in his lap.

“Did you…you know… _like_ him?” he asked carefully.

Lydia muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “children” under her breathe before addressing both men. “Of course he did because no one reacts the way he did to seeing Derek’s girlfriend if they don’t feel anything.”

Stiles tensed but Scott gaped. “Derek has a girlfriend? And was sleeping around with you?” he asked with a proper amount of outrage, at least in Stiles’ opinion.

“Look it doesn’t matter,” Stiles finally spoke. “He’s obviously over our whole situation so that means I just need to get over it, too. I mean he didn’t exactly try really hard when I left yesterday super pissed off.”

“Wait, you were with him yesterday?” Lydia questioned.

“Dude,” Scott pouted.

“Yeah, why?”

“It’s just he seemed really comfortable with his girlfriend to have cheated on her the day before,” Lydia elaborated casually.

“So I’m not the first one,” Stiles bit out with a glare. “That makes me feel a lot better. Thanks.”

“I’m just saying, maybe she’s not his girlfriend,” Lydia shrugged.

“You heard them talking! They were talking about dates and how much they missed each other and she had cute nicknames for him and she practically mauled him when he came through the door! I don’t know what else that could possibly be,” Stiles huffed, falling limp back in his chair in frustration.

Lydia pursed her lips but let his sharp words pass without comment. Scott watched on in confusion and pity. He knew Stiles better than probably anyone and the man was about ready to spiral into a couple of “bad weeks” as he labeled them. The frequency with which Stiles had these had become alarming since they started college and Scott always attributed it to the stress of balancing school and relationships and what little money Stiles had.

“I need a drink,” Stiles moaned, running his hands down his face.

“I thought you said this morning you were never going to drink again?” Scott asked with a raised brow.

“Yeah, well I’ve had another shitty day and I need a drink,” Stiles stated. “We’re going back out tonight.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Stiles,” Scott ventured to warn.

Stiles looked at him incredulously, flailing a little in his chair and Lydia shook her head at his antics. It was definitely something that was an acquired taste.

“Why? I can get wasted again and forget about the shit sandwich that is my life for a few hours and then regret it in the morning and reasonably complain for the rest of the weekend.”

“That sounds fun to you?” Lydia said, deadpan.

“Yes.”

She sighed but relented.

“Fine but I’m coming with you. Someone needs to watch out for you idiots.” Even though her words were unpleasant, her tone was fond and a hint of a smile played at the corners of her mouth so Stiles didn’t bother arguing with her.

They ended up going back to the place they went to the night before except this time it was jam packed with college students, drinking and dancing to the loud thumping music. Isaac was once again working but this time he had another person there to help, a guy that introduced himself as Danny.

“Everybody loves Danny,” Isaac called over the noise with an amused grin as he and the group of three watched hordes of people flock to said man’s side of the bar. “I think it’s the dimples.”

It didn’t take long for Stiles to get drunk. He was a bit of a lightweight anyways but the fact that he chugged three mixed drinks he didn’t even know the names to down in a span of twenty minutes probably didn’t help either. Lydia watched disapprovingly from her place sat on a stool at the bar (one she obtained by glaring imposingly at a freshman until he vacated the seat and probably the premises). Scott on the other hand drank with him enthusiastically, talking animatedly to no one in particular although Isaac tried to keep up conversation in between fulfilling drink orders.

After his sixth drink, Stiles was feeling giddy and light and maybe just a little dizzy but he was willing to ignore that part. With a grin, he fell against the bar next to Lydia and raised his eyebrows at her expectantly, his eyes darting to the dance floor and back. She gave him an ‘are-you-serious?’ look which he laughed at and grabbed her hand.

“Come on! One dance,” he yelled.

With a long-suffering sigh, she let herself be dragged to the dance floor and wrapped up in Stiles arms, which hung loosely around her waist. Snaking her own arms around his neck, she swayed her hips in time with his and the music, although her movements were far more graceful.

“Feels like Winter Formal all over again,” Stiles said with a small laugh.

She rolled her eyes, slapping the back of his head affectionately.

“Don’t think this night is going to end the same as that one,” she warned. “That was a one-time thing.”

“Yeah, I know,” he shrugged indifferently. It was a response she had never thought she’d get from him when rejecting him and she was glad that they had gotten to the point in their friendship that Stiles was capable of such nonchalance. “You know I love you Lydia but not like that. Not anymore.”

“Aren’t we all thankful,” she muttered but sent him a smile.

He laughed loudly, much more so than the jab warranted but his alcohol addled brain didn’t quite register that.

“You have to admit it was a good night,” he said.

“It was alright,” she shrugged truthfully. “You weren’t bad for a virgin.”

Stiles grinned even wider, taking the compliment as high praise considering the fact it came from Lydia Martin. She was like a sex guru.

“I’m glad I could kind of satisfy you,” he chuckled and she snorted.

“You’re an idiot.”

They danced for a few songs, losing track of the time and who was around them. Stiles took it upon himself to bust out some old-school moves, including the sprinkler, and the crowd had to separate a bit to avoid his flailing limbs. Lydia watched on in amusement, refusing when he tried to get her to join him. He simply laughed and continued, twirling her when she finally relented and dipping her low to plant a kiss against her cheek. She pushed him away with a laugh and they righted themselves.

“Let’s get another drink!” she called, lips close to his ear so he could hear her over the music. He nodded and they turned toward the bar and promptly froze.

Derek was standing, leaning over the bar in his usual ensemble of jeans, a Henley, and a black leather jacket. The girl from earlier was hanging onto his shoulder as they talked to Isaac across the bar. Scott was nowhere to be seen in the bar area and Stiles could only assume he went outside to call Allison like he always did when he was drunk.

Derek smiled gently at Isaac, chuckling under his breath at his words before turning to lean back against the bar and scan the club. Lydia immediately latched onto Stiles’ shoulder, looking up at him with a mixture of sympathy and ‘don’t you dare do anything stupid’. Derek’s eyes landed on him, pausing and then glancing at where Lydia was attached to his arm before he frowned and turned away.

“Yeah, I definitely need another drink,” Stiles muttered, slipping his arm out of Lydia’s grasp and stalking over to the other end of the bar where Danny was just finishing up serving a girl with brilliantly pink hair. “Hey, Danny!”

Danny spotted him and smiled, moving over to him and leaning across the bar.

“What can I get you?” he asked charmingly, dimples ever-present on his cheeks. Stiles could see what Isaac had been talking about.

“Something really really strong,” Stiles replied and Danny’s eyebrows flew up.

“Rough night?” he questioned as he began to pour a drink.

“You could say that,” Stiles sighed and forced himself not to glance over to the other end of the bar where he knew Derek was standing.

“Ah, I know that look,” Danny replied with an understanding nod, sliding a glass over the bar. “Relationship issues, right?”

Stiles held up the drink, admiring its oddly bright blue complexion before downing the whole thing in one go. It burned more than he expected and he coughed as he slammed the glass down on the bar, Danny watching on in surprise and amusement.

“What gave it away?” he finally asked.

“Well if your kicked-puppy expression didn’t tell me what it was, I think the way you just chugged an AMF would have made it pretty clear,” Danny answered, pulling the glass back toward him.

“AMF?”

“Adios Mother Fucker.” Danny grinned. “It’s basically a blue long-island ice tea. It’ll hit you in a second.”

“Oh god why didn’t you warn me?” Stiles moaned, sinking onto an empty stool.

“Hey, you said you wanted something strong. I wasn’t expecting you to drink it in one go,” Danny shrugged. “Just take it easy for a while. You’ll be fine.”

“You’re my new least favorite person,” Stiles mumbled, laying his cheek on the sticky bar. “Actually no. That’s Derek. You’re my second least favorite.”

“Derek?” Danny questioned. “Derek Hale?”

A girl shoved her way forward calling for “another round” and apparently Danny seemed to know what that meant since he pulled out five shot glasses and quickly filled them with some kind of clear liquor.

“Yeah, why?” Stiles said, looking up at him with a pout.

Danny chuckled, shaking his head as he smoothly placed the bottle back on a shelf under the counter and went to fill a glass with some Heineken. “Stiles Stilinski. I don’t know how I didn’t figure it out before. It’s not like there’s another Stiles running around,” he said distractedly between drinks.

“What do ya mean?”

“Derek talks about you all the time. Well, complains more like it. Although telling by how often he does it I’d say he’s got a crush,” Danny teased.

Stiles scowled, flicking at a piece of splintered wood that was sticking up from the edge of the bar. He didn’t know how much Danny knew about Derek but obviously they weren’t that close if he didn’t even know Derek had a girlfriend.

“I seriously doubt it,” Stiles muttered, barely loud enough for Danny to hear over the music. “He’s ’n asshole.”

“Yeah a bit,” Danny agreed with a nod. “He comes off that way at least. But he’s really a giant teddy bear. And he’s a total genius. I’m honestly surprised he came out tonight. He never does. I’m assuming Laura forced him out.”

“You kno’ Lurra?” Stiles slurred. He was starting to really feel all the alcohol he had drank and it was making his head spin and his body lax.

“Yeah she’s come up a couple times to visit.” Danny paused to pour another round for the girl from before. “She brought Cora once too I think but she’s still in high school so it’s hard for her to leave home.”

“Cora?”

“Yeah the other sister?”

“Other sister?”

Danny stopped moving for a moment to stare down at Stiles in a considering manner.

“Have you never met his family?”

“What’re you talkin’ ‘bout?”

Stiles brain hurt too much for this conversation and all the names Danny was starting to throw at him only made it worse. He couldn’t concentrate long enough to actually understand what they were talking about. Honestly, he was almost positive he was about to pass out on the bar.

“Laura and Cora—his sisters,” Danny explained. “He has an uncle too but I don’t think he gets out much. He’s never visited anyways.”

“Sisters?”

Stiles sat up abruptly, teetering a little unsteadily on the stool before regaining his balance and staring intently at Danny.

“Did you say Laura is his sister?” he asked again, voice a lot more sober than just moments before.

“Yeah, why?” Danny returned.

“No no no no,” Stiles mumbled. “She can’t be.”

“Uh…why not?”

“I heard…no she’s…what?”

Stiles stuttered to a stop with wide eyes and immediately spun around as he hopped down from the stool. There were too many people crowded around the bar for him to tell if Derek was still at the other end so he waved vaguely at Danny and started fighting his way through people. Before he could get very far, a hand caught his elbow and pulled him forcefully away from the crowd and to the edge of the room, near the door.

“What are you doing?” Lydia asked with a hand on one hip.

“Where did you come from?” Stiles blinked.

“Were you about to go talk to Derek?” she continued as if he had never spoken.

“Well, yeah but—”

“Stiles you know that’s not a good idea.”

“No but—”

“Come on we should head back anyways.”

“Wait—”

“Scott’s outside.”

She grabbed his arm again, much to his mumbled protest, and dragged him outside. He looked toward the bar and thought he saw a flash of leather before he was pulled out the door. They found Scott sitting on the curb, messing around on his phone but he quickly joined them when they came outside.

“Lyds wait—”

“As one of your best friends, I cannot in good conscience let you make such a huge mistake,” Lydia interrupted with a sharp look and Stiles groaned dramatically.

“Laura is his sister!” he burst out and Lydia stopped to stare at him along with Scott.

“I’m whose sister?”

The trio whipped around toward the voice, finding the brunette in question leaning against the wall with her phone near her ear as if she had just finished a call and watching them curiously. Stiles slumped and groaned again, always the one to over-exaggerate. She only watched with such a familiar unimpressed expression that Stiles wanted to slap himself for not recognizing the similarity between her and Derek earlier.

“So you’re Stiles?” Laura continued when no one spoke, raising an eyebrow as she looked him up and down. The look was so invasive, Stiles felt just a little violated and ended up curling in on himself just a little. Jesus what was up with all the scary women in his life?

“Uh…yeah,” Stiles responded oh so eloquently. His head was still fuzzy and he may have swayed a little even though he was standing still so he couldn’t bother being embarrassed by his lack of wit.

Laura gave him another once over and her expression seemed to become ever more unimpressed, if that was possible.

“You’re Derek’s sister?” Lydia asked curiously.

“Yeah,” Laura answered, looking relieved to be conversing with a fully functioning human being. “He’s my baby brother. I’m in town for his birthday tomorrow.”

“It’s Derek’s birthday tomorrow?!” Stiles exclaimed and Scott started laughing. Stiles wasn’t sure if it was because of the situation or because he had stumbled a little trying to step closer to Laura.

“Yes,” she said with a raised brow.

“Why wouldn’t he tell me?” Stiles mumbled to himself, face comical in its confusion.

“Because you supposedly hate each other?” she answered as if it was obvious.

“So you saw it too, huh?” Scott asked. His eyebrows wiggled goofily, something that was so _not_ Scott that Stiles almost laughed but his best friends words took precedence at the moment.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, he only talks about this idiot all the time,” Laura said as if Stiles hadn’t spoken. “Derek’s way of expressing affection is quiet brooding and grumpy scowling.”

Scott laughed loudly and even Lydia seemed amused but Stiles frowned. “But he does that all the time.”

Lydia rolled her eyes and slapped him on the back of the head, much to his displeasure if his loud squawk of indignation said anything. “Because he likes you, you idiot. You’ve been sleeping with him for months and you didn’t even notice?”

“It was just sex!” Stiles cried in exasperation, throwing his hands into the air.

Scott froze, staring at the door to the bar and Stiles narrowed his eyes in suspicious. Despite his more than inebriated mind, he knew that look was not good. With a quiet sigh of resignation, he turned around, finding Derek standing there with his jaw clenched just like he knew he would and closed his eyes as his head fell back, praying for a fucking break any day now.

“Laura,” Derek said, stiffly. “Cora said you hung up on her.”

Laura rolled her eyes. “I had important business to attend to here. And I didn’t hang up on her. I said bye.”

“Whatever. Just make her stop texting me,” Derek answered with a frown. “I’m going home.”

“It’s only 1 o’clock,” she countered.

“I didn’t want to come out anyways. You dragged me here. And now I’m going to go home and go to sleep. Like I wanted to do.”

Laura pouted as Derek passed her.

“You realize you’re my ride, right?!” she called after him.

“Split a cab with Isaac when he gets off,” he called back without turning to look.

Stiles had stood quiet during the exchange before he realized that Derek was not only leaving, but leaving angry and he was pretty sure it was his fault. With a fumbling first few steps, he started running after him calling his name.

“Derek, wait!”

The man in question only stopped once he’d reached his Camaro, sighing heavily as he waited for Stiles to catch up and turned to look at him with a blank expression. It was like a slap to the face, seeing that look, the same one Stiles remembered from their first days of knowing each other. He hadn’t truly realized until now that Derek had changed around him over the course of the past few months. That he’d looked less genuinely irritated with him and more…fond.

“What do you want, Stiles?” he asked quietly, staring him straight in the eye. It was a bit unnerving and Stiles found himself averting his gaze and trying desperately to piece together a sentence that made sense inside his jumbled up brain.

“I uh…I’m sorry about yesterday,” he finally blurted and then winced. “I mean not like the sex part…’cause I mean that was good… _really_ good…I mean it’s always good. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I was sort of an asshole and I didn’t really ask if you really wanted to…you know and I shouldn’t have been such a dick. I mean that’s sort of how we work really but still I was more dick-ish than usual I guess? I was just—”

“Stiles, it’s okay,” Derek sighed, cutting off his rambling (thankfully because Stiles honestly wasn’t sure where he was going with that). “Like you said. It’s just sex. I get it.”

Stiles gaped a little, feeling disappointment sink in and his stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Yeah…yeah just sex,” he mumbled.

“Just sex,” Derek confirmed, voice blank. It was hard for Stiles not to believe him considering how unaffected Derek seemed to be by the whole conversation. Laura, Scott, and Lydia had seemed so sure and now here was Derek blatantly telling him they were all wrong. “Don’t worry about it.”

With that, Derek slid smoothly into his car and drove off faster than Stiles thought possible. He was left standing a little dumbfounded before his shoulders slumped in defeat and he trudged back to Lydia and Scott who now stood alone, Laura apparently having decided to go find Isaac.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“Sure you don’t want another drink?” Scott asked, immediately catching on to Stiles’ sour mood.

“Drinking isn’t the solution to all your problems, you realize that right?” Lydia said disdainfully.

Stiles shook his head and grabbed Scott so they could lean against each other while they stumbled their way back to Lydia’s car. Weirdly enough, it was Scott that seemed less graceful, probably a first for their entire sixteen years of friendship, but Stiles guessed his conversation with Derek had sobered him up a bit.

The drive back was silent, thankfully for Stiles because he wasn’t up for answering any questions at the moment, and as soon as Lydia dropped them off at the dorms, Stiles delivered Scott to his bed before falling onto his own, much like he had that morning, except this time he felt nauseous for a whole different reason. With a sigh, he kicked his shoes off and curled under his blankets. It didn’t take long for him to slip into sleep, the image of Derek’s expressionless face the last thing he remembered.

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

The next week was pretty shitty.

That was honestly the best way for Stiles to describe it. He didn’t see Lydia the entire span of seven days and even went so far as to ignore her calls (which he knew she was going to chew him out for). Scott seemed to realize he needed some space and kept the prodding to a minimum, simply offering a controller over to him when he came back to their room from class so they could shoot animated zombies well into the night. Stiles didn’t even fight with Derek in any of the three class periods they had together throughout the week, which seemed to throw Dr. Deaton off a bit as he kept finishing early as if he was used to shortening his lectures to accommodate their debates.

Stiles couldn’t bring himself to feel bad for being mopey though. Lydia and Scott (and no doubt Allison by extension) now absolutely knew he had feelings for Derek even if he wouldn’t straight up admit it out loud. And Derek had been ignoring him since that night. He didn’t even look at Stiles in class, choosing to stare either at Dr. Deaton while he talked, or at the essays they had turned in that Monday (Stiles was almost positive he was going to fail it if not because Derek was grading it then because he was basically hung-over all weekend and wrote it in an hour just before class on Monday).

So, safe to say, it was a shitty week for one Stiles Stilinski. And it didn’t look like it was going to get better any time soon.

“What do you mean I can’t take the class?” Stiles asked Marin Morrell, his advisor since starting at Berkley.

“You can’t take the class, Stiles,” Morrell sighed, sounding incredibly put upon by their conversation. “You need too many credits to graduate in four years for you to be delving off into other subjects.”

“But this isn’t another subject!” Stiles exclaimed. “’Introduction to Research Methods in Criminology’. It’s in the name!”

“Just because it’s a criminology course, does not mean it’s relevant to your focus,” she retorted. “Look, Stiles. I know you want to learn everything you can. But there are too many possible courses for you to try and take when you are attempting a double major. You’ve told me you are looking to pursue a career in law enforcement. Law enforcement does not research.”

“Actually I think research is pretty important, _especially_ in law enforcement, and—”

“Stiles.”

Stiles’ mouth snapped shut and he glared at the wall.

“You only need 6 more credits for your criminology major—a fact that should be celebrated as you are only a junior. But you need 21 credits in order to graduate with your double major in psychology…unless you would like to stay in school an entire extra semester just for one class?” Morrell said with a raised brow.

Stiles sighed, meeting her gaze with a pout (he wasn’t afraid to milk his large honey eyes for all they were worth).

“You also still need your Public Speaking credits,” she continued, expression remaining.

“Oh come on! You know I can talk. I do it all the time!” Stiles argued.

He could swear he saw her lips twitch a little in amusement.

“While that might be true, you still have to take the class,” Morrell said. “It’s your own fault for putting it off until the end.”

Stiles scowled but didn’t argue the point any further. He knew when he was beat. That didn’t mean he had to like it though.

“I’ll take that in fall then,” he grumbled and Morrell gave him a pleased smile.

“Good,” she said. “Now you just need to pick some psychology courses focusing on criminal justice and the likes and you’ll be set for next semester!”

“Yay,” Stiles deadpanned.

He didn’t know why he had thought that he could out-wit Marin Morrell—the woman was one of the most devious people he knew…again with the scary women. Stiles felt he really needed to just find a nice quiet girl to settle down with who wasn’t secretly an evil mastermind.

“Hey, Stiles!”

Speaking of evil-masterminds.

“Hey, Erica,” Stiles sighed as the blonde in question caught him leaving the criminology building.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” she grinned, looping her arm through his in order to walk along with him. Despite his not too sociable mood, Stiles let her. It was almost impossible to refuse Erica Reyes.

“Yeah, I’ve been busy,” he muttered and she a raised a brow at him. “Sorry,” he added.

“Well, you can make up the fact that you’ve been avoiding pretty much everyone for like a week now,” Stiles glared at her, “aaaand come to my party tonight.”

“Why are you throwing a party?”

“For Derek’s birthday.”

Stiles stopped walking and stared at her incredulously. “First of all, wasn’t his birthday _last_ weekend? And second of all, I think it’s pretty obvious that Derek and I hate each other.”

Erica gave him a dubious look, cocking a hip and planting her hand there to let him know she really meant business. He almost groaned, knowing whatever she wanted, he was most likely going to end up conceding to her demands. “Okay, first of all, Derek doesn’t know how to celebrate anything and Laura stayed the week. Also, Cora came up so we’re having a get together. Second of all,” she paused and gave him a once over, mischievous smirk playing over her lips, “I think it’s pretty obvious that you guys really don’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he exclaimed with a wide jerk of his arms.

She simply raised a brow at him.

“Do I have to go?” Stiles tried one last time, giving her pleading eyes.

They didn’t work on Morrell and they apparently were not going to work on Erica either. He really needed to get Scott to share the trade secret to perfect puppy dog eyes because he could get away with almost anything.

“Fine!” he huffed dramatically when Erica only continued to stare.

She grinned at him and gave him a tight hug.

“Cheer up, Batman,” she said. “You get to hang out with your friends and drink free alcohol. It’s supposed to be fun.”

He smiled a little at that and nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Great!” Erica started walking away, still facing him. “Me and Boyd’s place at 7!”

“Isn’t that a little early?”

“Stiles…” she said with a patronizing shake of her head. “You’re going to help set up. Duh.”

Yay.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Stiles didn’t help set up. In fact he waited an extra couple hours after 7 to even get ready. Unfortunately, getting ready didn’t take as long as he wanted since he didn’t see any point in changing out of the clothes he’d been wearing all day. He settled with brushing his teeth, restyling his hair and throwing on his signature beanie when that didn’t work out.

With a sigh, he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror for a moment, frowning at the incoming circles under his eyes. Even without Derek taking up time in his schedule, he was still frantically busy.

Stiles sighed again and headed out, grabbing his keys and a hoodie to throw over his t-shirt and ignoring the blinking of his cellphone which told him Erica had texted him… _again_. Scott had actually gone over to Erica’s at 7 to help set up (because he was a good friend) and taken his bike.

When Stiles had come back to the room earlier that day Scott had been sitting on his bed, playing video games.

_“Hey, man,” Scott greeted. Stiles nodded in return. “Erica’s having a party tonight.”_

_“Yeah, I know. She just cornered me.”_

_“So…are you going then?”_

_“I guess. If I don’t, she’ll just do something evil and/or devious and I don’t want to deal with that.”_

_“Cool.”_

_Scott continued playing his game while Stiles set about microwaving up some Spaghettios._

_“It’s Derek’ birthday party you know.”_

_Stiles rolled his eyes._

_“Yeah. I know.”_

_“And you’re okay with that?”_

_“Like I said, I don’t have much of a choice.”_

_“Okay…”_

_“I’ll be fine Scott.”_

_“Alright.”_

Stiles kind of wished Scott had convinced him not to go. Not only was he tired and not much in the mood to party, but he also _really_ didn’t want to see Derek. And that was inevitable.

By the time Stiles had arrived, the “gathering” seemed to be in full swing. There weren’t a lot of cars as Erica had said it was just friends (Stiles couldn’t imagine Derek allowing more than that) but he knew that inside the house, they were all probably drunk and happily joking around with each other. It was a matter of time before they started playing Truth or Dare like their high school days or someone took their shirt off. Someone always took their shirt off…

Stiles was greeted with the sound of laughter and loud discussion when he went inside, without knocking because really what was the point? A short brunette was exiting the kitchen to head into the living room with a bag of chips in hand when she spotted Stiles standing awkwardly in the foyer.

“Who are you?” she asked with a raised brow, crunching a chip loudly in one bite.

“I…uh,” he started.

“Stiles!”

Erica flew down the hallway and hugged him tightly.

“You were supposed to be here like forever ago!” she admonished with a lazy grin when she stepped back. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes a bit glassy—obviously drunk.

“Yeah, I uh…got distracted,” Stiles winced.

“You just didn’t want to help set up,” she corrected. “But it’s okay. I forgive you. Because you came!”

“Yes. Yes I did.”

Erica rolled her eyes, grabbing his arm and leading him over to the girl who had been watching them in amusement. Stiles smiled at her awkwardly when Erica introduced her as Cora, Derek’s younger sister (oh dear god) and she nodded in return with a considering once over. It was enough to make him shift uncomfortably.

“Come on. Everyone is in the living room,” Erica said, dragging him by the arm once more.

“Great,” he muttered.

When they entered the living room, Stiles saw that Erica really had meant everyone. Scott and Isaac were talking over in a corner, laughing good-naturedly. He saw Malia and Kira, a couple that had joined their group not too long ago, who were playing pool with Lydia. He honestly couldn’t tell who was winning because he knew for a fact that all three of them were amazing at pool. And when the hell did Erica and Boyd get a pool table? Jackson and the bartender from the club, Danny, were leaning against the wall nearby, watching them play and talking casually, though Stiles noticed how Jackson’s eyes lingered on Lydia longer than the other two. He supposed they’d been broken up long enough now for them to be able to attend the same party but it was clear whatever that had been going on between them wasn’t finished.

Stiles’ gaze drifted over to where Boyd was playing cards with Laura at the coffee table, both sitting crisscrossed on the floor and staring intently at their hands. And then there was Derek, leaned comfortably back on the couch and watching their game with a small smile. Stiles’ heart fumbled a beat at the sight of the other man, dressed casually as always in a t-shirt and jeans and hair styled to look natural even though Stiles had seen him first-hand spend almost 15 minutes trying to get it to look perfect while he laughed at him, rolling around naked on the bed.

“I can’t do this,” Stiles mumbled to himself but the way Erica sent him a look let him know she’d heard him.

“Hey, Stiles!” Scott called with a wave.

Stiles sent him a nod and a small smile which he was almost positive looked more like a grimace. He saw Derek stiffen a little out of the corner of his eye but other than that, the birthday boy made no move to acknowledge his presence and for some reason that just pissed Stiles off.

“Where’s the alcohol?” he asked suddenly, turning to Erica.

She pointed toward the kitchen with narrowed eyes but didn’t stop him when he hurried in that direction. He was going to need a few drinks if he was going to make it through tonight. Stiles thought maybe Lydia was right and he _did_ rely a little too much on alcohol to solve his problems as he was mixing a Jack Daniels and Coke—with a little more whiskey than soda—but found he didn’t really care as he took the first sip.

“Hey, man,” Scott greeted, patting Stiles’ shoulder while he finished his drink.

Stiles went to mix another and Scott frowned at him. “Hey,” Stiles said back, glancing between Scott and Isaac, who was lingering off to the side. “Isaac, right?”

“Yeah,” the man in question answered with a smirk. “Nice to meet you…you know when you’re not completely trashed and about to pass out.”

His pointed look at Stiles’ new drink didn’t go unnoticed but Stiles only gave him a wry smile and lifted his cup as if to say ‘Cheers!’ before taking a drink. Stiles could already feel a bit of a buzz taking over and he welcomed the feeling with open arms.

“Too bad Allison couldn’t be here. Almost had the whole gang back together,” he said.

Scott sighed and pouted. “I know! Why did she have to do a year in France?” he whined and Stiles chuckled.

“Semester’s almost over, buddy,” Stiles answered with a comforting hand on Scott’s shoulder. “Then she’ll officially be back and you guys can get married and have a bunch of babies and be disgustingly in love.”

Isaac laughed at the hopeful look in Scott’s eye and he and Stiles each punched Scott’s arms jokingly until he was laughing too.

“What’s going on with Lydia and Jackson? Have they talked yet?” Stiles asked.

“Nope. Jackson just keeps creepily staring at her from across the room and she won’t give him the light of day,” Scott answered with a smug grin.

Stiles snorted into his drink, irrationally pleased by that. What could he say? Jackson was a dick.

“Why? You’re not jealous or anything are you?” Scott said with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Stiles gave him a flat look.

“You know I haven’t loved Lydia like that since high school when I made you make out with me at a party and I realized I might also like dick.”

Isaac choked a little on the sip he had been taking and shook his head while he tried to catch his breath. Stiles shot him a snarky smile.

“Dude! We don’t talk about that!” Scott exclaimed, indignantly before turning toward Isaac. “And we didn’t make out. It was just a kiss. And we were really drunk.”

“Whatever you say, Scotty,” Stiles said as he walked past the duo with a grin into the living room.

“And don’t ever use me as your reason for sexual awakenings!”

Stiles laughed into his drink as he made his way over toward the girls playing pool to watch them play.

Surprisingly, Stiles managed to actually avoid Derek for the next couple hours, despite being in the same room as him. He didn’t even risk glancing the other man’s way in case he’d be met with awkward staring (or worse—Derek ignoring him completely).

He actually got to talking with Cora, who had been watching the pool game with mild interest when he appeared, and after getting past the fact that she was scarily similar to her brother, he found that they got along pretty well. At least she seemed less likely to punch him in the face than Derek. Stiles considered that a win.

At some point, Danny had wandered over from talking to Jackson (according to Cora, they were best friends which Stiles didn’t understand _at all_ ) and proposed a one on one between them when the girls had finished their fourth game and grew bored. Stiles reluctantly, agreed with a warning that he might accidentally poke him in the eye with the cue stick. Danny had laughed, throwing Stiles a small smirk and Stiles may have smirked back a little flirtatiously. Danny was cute, okay?

“Have you ever actually played pool?” Danny asked through a laugh after Stiles’ fifth failed attempt at actually pocketing a ball.

“Yes,” Stiles snarked back. “I’m just not very good at it. My dad learned at a young age that I shouldn’t be trusted with balls and sticks.” Danny rose an eyebrow and Stiles thought back over his words before smirking at him. “Certain ones anyway.”

Danny shook his head in exasperated amusement, moving to easily pocket his last striped ball in a corner pocket. With just another jab of his cue stick, he also pocketed the eight ball and then leaned back with a pleased grin.

“Yeah yeah,” Stiles said with an eye roll. “Don’t get cocky. Just try playing me at something I’m actually good at and we’ll see how smug you are.”

“Are you actually good at anything?” he teased.

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “I’m good at plenty of things. I’m great at poker. Nobody sees past my poker face.”

“Is that so?” At Stiles emphatic nodding, Danny gestured to the coffee table where Boyd and Laura were still playing cards and Erica and Derek were watching from the couch. “Are you willing to test that?”

“Hell yeah,” Stiles answered. “Let me get another drink first and then you’re on.”

By the time Stiles got back, Danny had apparently collected everyone in attendance into a large circle on the floor of the living room which had been cleared of furniture. Stiles found an empty seat between Danny and Scott and grinned at the former man as he took it and gestured for him to deal the cards.

“So what are we betting? Because I’m not giving up my money to you heathens,” Stiles asked.

Lydia rolled her eyes as she took her cards from Danny. “Strip poker. What else?”

Stiles’ eyebrows shot up but he didn’t say anything to refuse. Once they had all settled with their cards, silence fell as everyone contemplated their hands and began to plan their next moves. Danny kept peering at Stiles and he would simply smile contentedly in return, completely at ease. If he was good at anything, it was lying (probably not something to be proud of but whatever). Stiles was in his zone when it came to card games. He’d perfected his poker face over the years, so much so that even Scott and Lydia couldn’t see through it most of the time.

Malia, Kira, Cora, Boyd, and Derek had decided to sit out for the game but joined the circle anyway to watch them and continue their conversations. Stiles kept making as if to look at Danny’s hand and the latter man would lean away with a gentle shove. Scott rolled his eyes at them and stuck out his tongue in concentration.

As soon as Danny had dealt out new cards, Jackson folded (Stiles was almost positive he did it just so he could take off his shirt and show off) along with Erica (probably for the same reason) and Scott who grumbled under his breath about bad luck. Lydia stared across at Stiles thoughtfully and he sent her a jaunty wave. She huffed at him and asked for another card from Danny when it was her turn once more. By this point, Laura folded after biting her lip in contemplation long enough for Jackson to complain and Boyd followed shortly after with a shrug. Isaac, Lydia, Stiles and Danny all stared at each other for a long moment and Stiles grinned at Danny when he rose an eyebrow at him.

“All right. Show your cards, folks,” Stiles said finally because he was getting bored with the attempts at intimidation.

They all laid out their cards and Stiles cheered while the other three groaned in defeat. Immediately the losers began stripping off items of clothing. Like Stiles had thought, Jackson took off his shirt with a smirk and Lydia rolled her eyes even though she hadn’t even glanced his way. Danny also slipped his shirt off, rolling _his_ eyes when Stiles gave him a once over and whistled loudly.

Most of the guys in the room were shirtless now—which Stiles couldn’t say he minded at all—while the girls seemed to have stuck with small things like socks or shoes. Only Erica proceeded to also pull off her blouse to reveal a tight tank top which really left nothing to the imagination. Stiles thought he may pass out by the end of the night. Sometimes he forgot just how gorgeous all of his friends really were.

“Another round?” Danny asked and they agreed, Malia offering to join in this time.

They barely had enough cards the last round so Laura and Scott (who said he wanted to call Allison anyway) dropped out. They played round after round and Stiles actually managed to make everyone fold one time except Danny who seemed determined to beat him but to no avail.

“You are one lucky bastard,” he muttered as he shucked off his pants, already having removed his shoes and socks, and sat back down in just his boxers.

“It’s not luck, Danny boy,” Stiles said back with a grin.

Erica was unashamedly sitting in her underwear now too which Boyd seemed more pleased about than anything, admiring her from where he sat two people over. He had dropped out after round four. Really the only people left were Stiles (who was yet to have stripped anything), Danny, Erica, Lydia, and Isaac. Jackson had gotten bored after a couple rounds and given up to play a game of pool with Laura and Scott was still missing, probably outside still on the phone.

“Hey, Derek,” Isaac called. “You’re the only one who hasn’t played yet.” That was true as everyone had joined in for at least one round—even Cora. “Sit in for this one.”

“You know I hate poker, Isaac,” Derek answered blandly.

“Aw, come on Der-bear,” Erica said with a wink. “You’re grumpy face is perfect for throwing people off.”

He scowled at her and she smirked as if he was proving her point. With a roll of his eyes, he gestured for Danny to hand him his cards, avoiding eye contact with Stiles the whole time who felt a little less giddy than a few minutes prior. They started the next round, those who weren’t playing anymore filtering away to grab more drinks and take more comfortable seats on couches and chairs so that those who were scooted into a closer circle. Stiles found himself sitting directly across from Derek and when he looked up from his hand, Derek was staring at him only to quickly avert his gaze.

Lydia frowned down at her hand after asking for two cards from Danny and then down at what was left of her outfit (she’d managed to avoid displaying underwear so far—apparently jewelry counted) before throwing her cards down with an irritated sigh.

“Fold,” she mumbled.

Stiles grinned at her and she rolled her eyes.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

She rolled her eyes again.

“Do you really think your luck is gonna hold out for another round?” Danny asked with a smile.

“I told you—it’s not luck,” Stiles answered. “Pure skill.”

Derek snorted but when Stiles whipped his head around to narrow his eyes at him, he was staring intently at his cards.

“Fold,” Isaac said.

“Fold,” Erica said.

Danny looked between Stiles and Derek, who seemed to be glaring at their hands now, with raised eyebrows and slowly put his cards down on the floor. “Fold,” he said,

Stiles looked at him in surprise and then grinned. “Finally gave up?”

“Sure,” Danny agreed with a shrug.

Stiles gave him a confused stare for a moment before glancing at Derek and seemingly realized it was down to the two of them. Lydia was failing to hide her smirk behind her drink from next to Derek and he shot her a glare.

“What do you say, _Der-bear_?” Stiles asked, a bit haughtily.

Derek looked up at him without raising his head, eyebrows remaining straight and Stiles felt a shiver run down his spine. The glare was so icy and harsh, worse than any look that Derek had ever sent his way and he suddenly desperately wanted to run away.

Stiles laid out his cards and Danny nodded in approval at the straight flush that was displayed. A small quirk of Derek’s lips made Stiles gulp a little. Then he laid out his own cards to reveal a royal flush and Danny actually gasped.

“Man!” he said with a laugh. “We should have had you join in earlier.”

Stiles frowned, trying to decide what he should take off, before an idea hit him. He kept eye contact with Derek as he slipped his beanie off his head and ruffled his hair a bit with a slow grin. Derek’s eyes tracked the movement and then darted away.

“You guys are cheaters,” Isaac said from where he was grimacing down at his boxers. “And I am not drunk enough to get naked,” he added as he stood.

“And you say I’m the cheater!” Stiles called after him.

He glanced back at Derek who was once again scowling, head bowed so Stiles couldn’t see his entire face. Lydia, Erica, and Danny seemed to be finished playing as well as they stood and walked toward the kitchen where Isaac and Laura were now lining up shots for everyone. Stiles’ high, both from alcohol and winning almost every round, was beginning to wane and he sighed down at the last little bit of his drink before knocking it back.

“I’m gonna get some air,” he said under his breath before stumbling out the front door. So maybe the alcohol wasn’t wearing off as much as he thought.

Scott was _still_ on the phone, sitting on the sidewalk out front as he smiled fondly at whatever Allison was saying. He nodded in greeting when Stiles approached and fell down next to him, sprawling out like a starfish in the grass, uncaring of the fact that he was probably getting dirt and grass stains all over his clothes.

“Hey, man. Allison says hi,” Scott said.

Stiles waved lazily in response.

“You okay?” Scott asked with a frown and Stiles could hear Allison asking what was wrong over the phone.

“I’m fine, Scotty,” Stiles muttered. “Just…I don’t know.”

“Is it Derek?” Scott asked.

Stiles groaned closing his eyes and rubbing his hands over his face.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Scott chuckled. From the rustling sound emanating from his phone, Stiles could only assume he’d changed it to speakerphone. “What happened?”

“Nothing!” Stiles exclaimed. “That’s the worst part! We were just sitting in the same room.”

“Did he say something?”

“Not one word.”

“So…nothing at all happened?”

“Nope. Nothing. Except his stupid beautiful face. And dumb eyebrows. And god I forgot how beautiful his eyes are,” Stiles sighed.

Allison snickered over the phone and Stiles could feel Scott’s hip shaking with laughter from where it was pressed against his shoulder. He flicked his friend off only to be met with more laughter.

“Have you tried talking to him?” Allison asked gently.

“You really think he’s going to let me talk to him?” Stiles retorted. “I’m pretty sure my balls may have actually shriveled up and died at the glare he just gave me.”

Allison sighed loudly and Scott groaned in annoyance. “Gross dude.”

“You get my point though. He’d be more likely to break my nose than let me say one word to him alone.”

“Yeah but isn’t it worth a broken nose if you get the chance to fix this?” Allison asked, and although it was teasing, there was still a tone of sincerity.

Stiles groaned, rolling onto his side, even though his head was starting to swim from the effects of alcohol. “Fuck. How did I not realize how gone on him I was?”

“Because you’re an idiot?” Scott said with consideration.

Stiles pinched his thigh but his friend only laughed.

“I can’t do it tonight, though,” Stiles mumbled. “It’s his party and I’m drunk. Serious conversations and drunk Stiles never mix well.”

“Are you going to see him any other time?” Scott said.

“I could corner him after class.”

“Well, the semester’s almost over so you better hurry up.”

Stiles groaned again. With a loud dramatic sigh, he sat up to blink at Scott’s amused face. “I’m gonna get another drink.”

Scot rolled his eyes. “Whatever dude. Just don’t complain to me in the morning.”

“Good luck, Stiles!” Allison called when Stiles stood, a little wobbly.

“Thanks,” he said back, voice softer than he intended. He was starting to realize how much he actually missed having Allison around all the time.

Once he was back inside, Stiles found Malia and Kira in the kitchen, sharing a drink as they talked quietly. They smiled at him while he made his drink and struck up a casual conversation. He didn’t know them all too well but they’d always seemed pretty nice though strangely matched for each other.

“You’re really good at poker,” Kira said with a smile.

“Thanks,” Stiles grinned. “I have to be good at something, I guess.”

“You’re good at kissing,” Malia offered.

He blinked at her for a minute before remembering that he’d made out with her once, at one of his first college parties freshman year. Kira seemed to be used to her blunt nature because she took the comment in stride and watched him curiously instead of with the expected glare.

“Thanks,” he answered more brightly.

Malia nodded with a small smile and curled her hand tighter around Kira’s hip as they settled against the counter to keep talking. Stiles wandered out of the kitchen, back into the living room where it seemed the rest of the party had decided to congregate, relaxed in a spread circle around the available furniture in the room. He headed over to Lydia and squeezed his way between her and Isaac on the loveseat.

“Where’s Derek?” he asked after a moment, glancing around the room and finding said broody T.A. missing.

Lydia raised a brow and shrugged.

“He probably went off by himself for a minute,” Isaac answered. “He’s not big on crowds.”

“Even friends?” Stiles said, perplexed.

“He just likes to be alone sometimes. And he’s been in a weird mood for like a week now.”

Stiles frowned, taking small periodic sips of his drink as he let the conversation of everyone else wash over him. It was probably one of the very few times in his life where he didn’t actively try and participate but his thoughts were too stuck on Derek. His bad mood could be attributed to having to grade essays for Deaton except that Isaac had sounded a bit concerned when he was talking about it, as if this amount of brooding was odd, even for Derek. Stiles didn’t want to lean toward himself being the reason except…well it made sense. But was that just giving himself false hope?

He stared down at his drink, still mostly full because he’d stopped taking sips a few minutes ago. Derek had been acting moody for a week now…since the previous weekend, which meant whatever their interaction was at the club was probably the reason. Stiles had been pretty drunk when it went down but was he mistaken in thinking Derek had looked resigned and even rejected when they spoke?

Was it really hard to believe that maybe Derek actually liked him? He always seemed to be amused at their stupid arguments and he even seemed to grow fond of them. The last time they’d been together, Derek had been concerned for Stiles—people aren’t concerned for others unless they care, right?

Gritting his teeth, Stiles placed his drink on the coffee table for fear of spilling it everywhere in his clenched fist. He needed to clear this up. He didn’t care how painful the result could be, he just needed to know.

With his new found resolve, he stood and strode over to where Laura was talking to Erica and Boyd on the couch.

“Do you know where Derek is?” he asked and Laura’s eyebrows shot up.

“Probably out back. He said he needed to get away for a while,” she answered, watching him curiously.

He nodded in thanks, heading toward the kitchen where the back sliding glass door was. He could feel Laura’s gaze on him as he walked but ignored it in favor of getting to Derek as quickly as possible before he chickened out. Malia and Kira were missing from the kitchen when he reached the door so he slipped outside unhindered.

Even though the light for the back porch was on, it didn’t help much, only creating a hazy yellow glow just around the door. It took a minute for Stiles’ eyes to adjust to the dark beyond it and just another minute for him to spot Derek leaning back against the wall just outside the circle of light. Taking a deep breath, Stiles slowly approached him, joining him against the wall. Derek didn’t respond to his presence—just continued to stare out at the scant woods that lined Erica and Boyd’s property without moving.

Now that Stiles was here, though, he had no idea what to say. He knew what he wanted Derek to tell him, what he wanted to hear, but he had no idea how to go about actually getting Derek to say it…or anything really.

“What do you want, Stiles?” Derek sighed eventually. Stiles had to stop himself from shuddering at the sound of his voice which he hadn’t heard in almost a week.

“Happy Birthday,” he tried and Derek turned to give him a blank look before returning to his original pose. “Laura told me last weekend it was your birthday and I had no idea. I mean you would think that’d be something I know about a person I’ve been…that I’ve _known_ for almost five months,” Stiles rambled on. “It kind of put things into perspective I guess? That I didn’t really know you as well as I thought I did.”

Derek didn’t answer when Stiles fell silent but his jaw had clenched and his eyes narrowed, as if unsure how to react.

“But like…I want to,” Stiles said hesitantly. “I think I’ve wanted to for a while now but I didn’t—I didn’t know what to do about it. And then I got into a fight with my dad and took it out on you—which you totally didn’t deserve because you were being so nice and acting like you actually cared how I felt. I guess it freaked me out because I had just been expecting to come over and get my frustration out but you were being so sweet and…”

“I do care how you feel,” Derek said quietly.

Stiles stared at his profile, the straight line of his nose, tense set of his lips, long dark lashes framing his light eyes. Even in the dark, it was hard to miss how handsome he was. And Stiles found himself never wanting to go another day without seeing that face. He wanted to wake up to it far into the afternoon after a long night together. He wanted to see its many expressions, the ones he’d yet to see and the ones he’d already been privy to. He wanted to know what Derek looked like when he really let go and laughed, whether the crinkles around his eyes deepened or if he grinned fully, showing off his slightly buck front teeth.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Stiles breathed, bowing his head in frustration. “I don’t know how—how to act on my…feelings.” He cringed as he said the word. “I’ve never really been in a real relationship. I was in love with Lydia for half my life only to be ignored and eventually rejected. And I mean that turned out to be okay because she’s one of the greatest friends I’ve ever had but…it was a bit of a blow to my romantic confidence, you know?”

Derek had turned his head again to watch Stiles curiously and his gaze made Stiles feel even more nervous. He started fidgeting, stepping away from the wall to pace a bit and running his fingers through his hair agitatedly.

“Honestly the only people I’ve ever really ‘ _been with_ ’ are my friends,” Stiles realized before scoffing. “That doesn’t exactly give me a lot of experience in…anything. It was never romantic or attraction really. Just one too many drinks and pity.”

Derek frowned, eyebrows furrowing as he narrowed his eyes at Stiles.

“You’re the only other person I’ve had sex with besides a drunken night after a high school dance with Lydia!” Stiles exclaimed before groaning. He shoved his face into his palms, rubbing at his eyes roughly and sighing. “I’m just going to shut up now before I embarrass myself anymore.”

They were quiet for a long time and as it dragged on even longer, Stiles could feel himself sagging with defeat. Derek had made no move to come closer or to speak or…do _anything_ and it was driving him crazy.

“Please just say something,” Stiles said. “I can’t stand the silence. I don’t even care what you say anymore. You can tell me to fuck off. Just _say something_.”

He looked up at Derek, inhaling sharply at the intense gaze he was met with. Still Derek remained quiet but his fingers twitched, as if he wanted to reach out. Then he did just that, wrapping a warm palm around the back of Stiles’ neck and stepping close enough that Stiles could feel the heat from his chest.

“Uh—”

Derek leaned forward until his nose brushed Stiles, firmly cutting off whatever he was about to blurt out. Stiles was unsure how to react. Was Derek messing with him? Was he trying to kiss him? Or make him nervous? Because he sure as hell felt nervous.

“You’re an idiot,” Derek said finally, voice almost a whisper and his breath tickling Stiles lips. Surprisingly, Stiles realized it didn’t smell like alcohol.

“Wha—”

Derek seemed to be done with talking and pushed forward the rest of the way to press his lips against Stiles, keeping the kiss unexpectedly gentle. Stiles responded almost immediately, unable to help himself because just as their lips had touched, he discovered how he truly did miss this. Not just the sex, the orgasms and the intimate touches, but just plain old kissing.

The kiss only lasted a few moments, enough for Derek to fall back against the wall, pulling Stiles with him so that they were pressed completely against each other. When they pulled away, Stiles left his eyes closed, still a bit dazed.

“So…does that mean you like me?” Stiles breathed.

“I thought that was obvious,” Derek answered, sounding genuinely confused.

Stiles opened his eyes up to the other man’s perplexed expression and held in a goofy grin at how utterly adorable the expression was. This is what he had wanted. And there was so much more for him to learn.

“Well, I like you too,” Stiles said with a small smile. “In case that _wasn’t_ obvious.”

Derek narrowed his eyes and then pulled Stiles toward him again with the hand that still cupped his neck, crushing their lips together in a rougher kiss, something a bit more familiar. It didn’t take long for Stiles to get with the program. He slipped his tongue passed Derek’s, licking his way into his mouth as he shifted impossibly closer. Derek’s knee slid between his legs and he groaned when it brushed his awakening cock.

Derek ducked down to run biting kisses along his jaw and neck, nipping at his earlobe as he went by and Stiles was helpless to do anything but hold on, fingers clutching Derek’s t-shirt while he grinded down on his thigh. Being on the same page, knowing they both had some sort of feelings for each other, touching Derek again after a while apart—all of it made the experience so much more intense than any other time they were together. Stiles moaned when Derek groped his ass in encouragement while simultaneously sucking a bruise into his collarbone.

“Derek, I—I think,” Stiles stuttered, trying to gain back control. “We should—ngh—we should probably take this somewhere else.”

Derek continued with his wet kisses but withdrew his leg, causing Stiles to whine in protest despite his comment.

“You’re probably right,” Derek murmured into his skin, warm breath fanning across Stiles’ neck. “And we might want to talk some more.”

“Yeah, probably,” Stiles agreed.

They pulled away to look at each other, faces remaining close enough that Stiles’ eyes were strained to actually see any of Derek’s features. Still, he couldn’t help but to marvel at the hazel eyes in front of him, looking momentarily brown under the minimum amount of light. It was hard to tell at all really because Derek’s pupils had widened to the point of almost overwhelming any color that could be there.

Stiles fell back against him with a sigh, kissing him deeply and with more feeling than he could remember ever putting into anything. There was no denying it anymore. He was completely head-over-heels for Derek Hale.

“You know, you really didn’t do that much talking,” Stiles murmured against Derek’s lips.

Derek laughed softly, capturing his lips in a kiss until Stiles was clutching at his shirt once more, pushing it up to reach bare skin. They were just beginning to grow frenzied again, clawing at each other and gasping into each other’s mouths when there came muffled voices from inside. Stiles pulled away with a loud smack of lips, both freezing as they listened to what sounded like Erica, Boyd, and Cora laughing in the kitchen as they got more drinks.

After a few minutes, it grew silent again and Stiles relaxed with a slow sigh, turning back to look at Derek with a sheepish grin.

“We should definitely take this somewhere else,” he whispered.

“We can go to my place,” Derek whispered back.

“Okay,” Stiles nodded.

They laughed quietly at each other, ducking in for another quick kiss before pulling away completely. As soon as Stiles stepped back, he missed Derek’s warmth, his touch. He forced himself to stay back, adjusting his clothes best he could and running a hand through his now mussed hair. Remembering his hat, he pulled it out of his pocket and slid it on his head in order to cover his inevitably sexed up looking hair, grinning as Derek narrowed his eyes at the garment.

“Come on,” Stiles said with a smile and a nod toward the door. “We have to go make excuses now.”

Derek smiled in return, shaking his head. They stepped inside together, the kitchen now empty, and cautiously made their way to the living room where everyone was together still—including Scott. It felt like a dramatic movie scene when the room almost fell completely silent as they entered, all eyes on them. Scott was grinning at Stiles who blushed in turn.

“We uh…we’re going to head out. Ya know…it’s getting kind of late,” Stiles muttered awkwardly.

Erica looked on in evil glee as the duo fidgeted and Jackson snorted loudly from his corner. Stiles tried to glare but he doubted it held much heat with the way his face was flushing a bright red.

“Uh huh,” Lydia answered, deadpan. “Whatever you do, be safe.”

Stiles gritted his teeth, sent her a dirty look to which he only received a smug smirk in return, and grabbed Derek’s wrist, turning swiftly to leave the room. That’s when the catcalls began and he tried to ignore them as he dragged Derek outside. His friends were quite a loud bunch already but with alcohol—they were downright deafening. Derek’s shoulders shook with quiet laughter, even though his cheeks and the tips of his ears were turning pink and Stiles just couldn’t find it in him to be mad at him when the man looked that adorable.

“I’ll follow you in the jeep,” Stiles said.

“No need. I came with Laura and Cora,” Derek answered.

And so they both got into the jeep, driving off in silence. While it should have felt a bit more comfortable now that they had things out in the open, it was actually thick with tension. Stiles couldn’t relax, wiggling around in his seat as he flipped through different radio stations and avoided eye contact with Derek. Now that things were a bit less heated, he had no idea what to say. He’d pretty much told Derek all he really needed to but he had a feeling that they still had things to discuss. At least that’s what Derek had said. That could only mean that Derek had some things he needed to say.

Honestly, Stiles wanted nothing more than to drag Derek into his bedroom, lay him out on the bed, and have his wicked way with him. Maybe it wasn’t healthy that his solution for everything was sex…but damn was it good sex. And this time he could put a little more effort into it without it seeming suspicious why.

When they got to the apartment, Stiles hesitated before getting out of the jeep, finally glancing over at Derek who looked to be just as tense as him. He sent the older man a small smile. They still didn’t talk as they went inside the building, when they rode the elevator up to the fifth floor, or even as Derek unlocked the door and they finally stepped inside his apartment.

It was comforting to be in a familiar place yet they still evaded each other a bit, Derek moving to grab drinks from the kitchen while Stiles slipped off his hoodie and laid it on the back of the couch.

“What did you want to drink?” Derek asked.

“Uh…just water is fine. I probably shouldn’t drink anymore,” Stiles answered. He’d told Scott that drunk Stiles and serious conversations didn’t mix well and now look where he was.

Derek sat next to him on the couch, handing over a glass of water silently and sipping at his own. They sat in awkward silence, both occupying themselves with their drinks and staring at the floor. This was not at all what Stiles had pictured when he finally got to talk to Derek.

“So did you—”

“I guess I should—”

They both stopped, looking at each other in surprise and laughed softly. Stiles gestured for Derek to continue and the other man nodded, placing his drink on the coffee table next to them. Stiles followed suit, turning to face him.

“I guess it’s my turn to talk,” Derek started hesitantly. “I’m not really good at this either. I’ve had…bad relationships in the past and so I’m kind of…closed off.” He seemed to be forcing the words out and Stiles didn’t know whether to be amused or proud that Derek was actually managing to get past some of his barriers. “I know I probably didn’t make my interest as well-known as I should have so that’s my fault. I should’ve said something earlier.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, scooting closer and placing a palm against Derek’s cheek to turn his face so that they were eye-to-eye. “You’re an idiot,” he said fondly and Derek chuckled at the familiar phrase. Before he could say anything in return, Stiles leaned forward and kissed him sweetly, just like Derek had done him. They didn’t move any closer, didn’t try to push the kiss, didn’t even shift their hands. They remained chaste and gentle and honestly it felt like the best kiss of Stiles’ life.

When they pulled away, Derek had a look of awe in his eyes as he stared at Stiles, who blushed under the attention. With a smirk, he shifted closer. “So, now that that’s out of the way…” he trailed off with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Derek’s own brows rose in amusement. “Don’t you think we should talk some more?”

“What more is there to talk about?” Stiles smiled as he stood and then dropped himself into Derek’s lap, straddling his hips and wrapping his arms around his neck. “You like me. I like you. There is mutual liking. And I’ve got to be honest—I’ve been hard since you first kissed me.”

Derek’s eyes narrowed but Stiles could feel the way his hands, which had drifted to rest on Stiles’ hips, clenched tighter at his shirt. His smirk only grew as he leaned closer, stopping just a breath away from Derek’s lips.

“I kind of missed you and all I really want right now is for you to fuck me,” he said lowly, eyes intent as he stared into Derek’s. The older man groaned in response, falling into him, lips clashing together hard enough that their teeth clacked some but neither seemed to mind as they both sighed into the kiss, pulling each other closer.

“You’re a menace,” Derek growled, moving down to suck at Stiles’ neck, returning to where he’d been biting a hickey into his collarbone just half an hour before. Stiles breathe quickened at the sensation, head falling back to bare more of his throat to Derek.

“Have you ever looked in a mirror?” Stiles breathed incredulously. “It’s a wonder I don’t jump you every time I’m near you.”

Derek laughed into his skin, licking wetly before giving a sharp nip. “You’re one to talk.” His hands found their way up to Stiles hair, pushing his beanie off and onto the floor behind him and running his fingers through the short messy locks. “Damn hat,” he muttered, pulling back to stare at Stiles’ mussed up appearance.

Stiles snorted, pulling his hoodie off and letting it join the hat behind him before yanking Derek back in by his neck. They kissed and gasped and moaned for he didn’t know how long. It was different and the same as it had always been all at once and Stiles was more turned on than he’d ever been in his entire life. So this was what it was like to truly love someone.

“Can I say something else?” Stiles blurted as he pulled back. Derek looked up at him a bit dazed before nodding. “Please don’t freak out. I’m just now realizing that this might freak you out so please don’t do that. Freak out that is. I mean I know it could be like a deal-breaker or whatever so I think it’s just better if I get it out of the way now, you know? And—”

“Stiles,” Derek interrupted with an amused grin. “Just tell me.”

“I think I love you,” Stiles breathed, shying away from Derek a little—although it didn’t really do much since he was sprawled in the man’s lap.

Derek stared up at him for a moment, gaze flitting across his face and Stiles fidgeted a bit at the prolonged silence until the other man leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his neck. He nestled his nose, dragging it along the curve so softly, Stiles almost giggled at the ticklish feeling.

“Good,” Derek whispered, breathe warm against his skin. “Because I think I love you, too.”

Stiles let out a long breathe and slumped in Derek’s arms. “Oh thank god,” he groaned in relief and Derek pulled away to raise an eyebrow at him. “Don’t give me that look. That was literally the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done. Can you blame me for being so nervous? I mean love is a big deal you know and I don’t know what I wou—”

Derek shut him up with a biting kiss and Stiles was suddenly so turned on again that he couldn’t even be mad.

They didn’t waste any time ripping off their shirts, a new feeling of urgency pushing them to get naked skin against naked skin as soon as possible. Derek ducked down to kiss along all the newly exposed skin and Stiles sighed, running his fingers through the man’s hair and bowing up into the feeling of soft lips. Instinctively, he grinded down until Derek groaned into his shoulder and bit down just a bit harder.

Without any warning, Derek stood, gripping the meat of Stiles’ thighs tightly while the man himself yelped in surprise and tightened his hold in order to keep from falling. His arms were looped around Derek’s neck and his legs settled over his hips as Derek carried him into the bedroom. With a soft laugh, Stiles nuzzled into his neck.

“Jesus you’re strong,” he said, sounding almost as if he was in awe with the situation. “Like I knew you were strong but like…you’re _strong_. If I’d known we could have been doing this I would have asked for wall sex ages ago.”

Derek snorted, pausing just inside the bedroom.

“Is that what you want?” he asked with a raised brow as Stiles leaned back to get a good look at him.

Stiles felt heat pool in his gut at the thought of Derek pressing him against a wall, their pants down just enough for access as the older man thrust into him with his big hands grasping at the globes of Stiles’ ass. He withheld a moan but shook his head.

“We’ll save that for later. Bed now,” he said and then smirked. “I have plans for you.”

Derek sent him a teasingly skeptical look as he gently laid him down on the bed, hovering just inches over his body.

“You have plans?” he asked, shifting to nip at Stiles’ jaw, running his palms slowly up and down his sides.

“Hell yeah,” Stiles said. His voice sounded suspiciously breathless.

“Like what?”

Derek sucked at an already forming bruise right underneath Stiles’ collarbone and the younger man jolted a bit at the feeling, fingers curling into fists against Derek’s back. With a smirk, Derek kissed and sucked a path down Stiles’ chest, pausing to pay just enough attention to his nipples to make him whine and begin to pant. Stiles couldn’t remember ever being so receptive to Derek’s touch but he couldn’t really think of why that would be a bad thing either.

“Tell me,” Derek pushed, teasing at the hem of his t-shirt with teeth and tongue.

Stiles swallowed hard, trying to get his thoughts in order, though that was easier said than done with the way Derek slipped his pants down effortlessly and breathed hotly over his clothed erection.

“I—uh,” Stiles cleared his throat, sucking in a breath as Derek mouthed at him through his boxers. “Nghh this is so unfair.”

Derek chuckled softly, caressing his thighs with a smile and sent Stiles a look too quick to label before yanking the younger man’s boxers down and nuzzling his nose into Stiles’ groin. His beard tickled at Stiles’ sensitive skin, all around his cock, his balls, his thighs, his hipbones. Stiles bit back a groan, eyes falling shut and head hanging back against the pillows.

“This is good,” he said and Derek snorted.

“Thought you were supposed to be telling me what _you_ wanted to do to _me_?” he countered with a smirk, bringing a hand up to grasp the base of Stiles’ dick so he could swiftly drag his tongue up its length.

“Well I can’t think when you—” Stiles paused to hiss a curse when Derek’s tongue dipped into the slit at the head. “When you do _that_.”

Derek stopped then and pulled away, hand still casually wrapped around his base. Stiles whined at the sudden cold air and lack of stimulation, propping himself up on his elbows to pout pitifully at Derek.

“Tell me,” Derek commanded lowly and a shiver ran down Stiles’ spine.

He shouldn’t find that so hot. Especially considering just a month ago, something like that would have set him off and probably led to another fight. Instead, it just made Stiles feel tingly all over. This was real. It wasn’t like it used to be. He wasn’t going to get angry. Or annoyed. Or frustrated. Because he loved Derek and it was just that simple.

This was _real_.

“No more talking,” he murmured instead because this wasn’t the time for dirty talk. They had plenty of chances in the future to do any and everything they could think of. But this time, Stiles was going to prove to Derek how much—how deeply he actually felt.

Derek seemed to understand because his expression softened and he didn’t bother fighting it when Stiles rolled them so that he could rest his weight on top of Derek’s chest, pressing warm sweet kisses into his skin. There was already a glistening of sweat at the curve of Derek’s neck and Stiles pressed his face there, smiling at the fact that he didn’t really have to do much of anything to get the other man worked up.

“Gonna make you feel good,” Stiles said quietly into Derek’s shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss there.

He slid down Derek’s body, continuing with his quick presses of soft lips. Derek watched him while he moved with such a fondness in his eyes that Stiles felt almost overwhelmed by it. He knew how he felt. But it felt incredible to get the same response from Derek.

With slightly shaking fingers, he managed to unbutton and unzip Derek’s jeans, sliding them down his legs and throwing them somewhere behind him. Derek huffed a small laugh at the flourishing movement and Stiles flashed him a smile. With a concentration Derek had probably never seen from the man before, Stiles very carefully pulled down his boxers, fingers and palms stroking the insides of his thighs and his calves as he went until Stiles flicked those over his shoulder too. This time though, Derek didn’t laugh at the display. He was too busy watching Stiles closely, still reeling from the tingles under his skin where the younger man had touched him.

Stiles leaned close to ghost his lips over Derek’s skin, traveling from ankle to thigh on one leg only to repeat the action with the other. Once he had Derek shivering at the soft touches, he propped his chin on the man’s hip and gazed up at him with a small, content smile. Derek returned it.

“I’m so glad I have you now,” Stiles said quietly, pressing a kiss to his hip bone. He moved slowly, methodically pressing another kiss to the muscles where his abdomen made a V downward. He continued closer and closer to where Derek really wanted him at a torturous pace. By the time he was nuzzling at the base of Derek’s erection, Derek was ready to flip him onto his back and ride him into oblivion.

“Stiles, please,” he choked out and the man in question quirked his lips before sucking him down without warning. Derek gasped, body arching until he relaxed into the sudden pleasure. Despite the quick start, Stiles kept his movements slow, dragging out each bob of his head and making sure to spend extra time every time he pulled back to flick his tongue around the leaking head.

Derek panted and swallowed thickly between breaths, using every ounce of strength to keep still and let Stiles do what he wanted like he so obviously had been planning. Eventually though his hands found their way to Stiles’ hair, grasping it steadily and scratching at his scalp. Stiles moaned around his mouthful, pulling off a moment in order to arch up into the touch and replacing his mouth with his hand to stroke slowly. It seemed Derek wasn’t the only one who enjoyed it when he ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair.

Only a moment later, Stiles was taking Derek back into his mouth. And then it was over almost as quickly as it had begun. With a final moan, Derek came, the orgasm taking him by surprise. Luckily, Stiles didn’t seem to mind and swallowed everything he had to offer.

“Sor—sorry,” Derek puffed.

Stiles pulled back, wiping at his bottom lip with a thumb which he then popped into his mouth. Derek gulped audibly at the sight, a reaction Stiles didn’t miss as he smirked and crawled his way back up Derek’s body. He’d be surprised at Stiles’ grace if his mind wasn’t complete goo.

Their lips met in a lazy kiss, sliding in and out of sync until Stiles sighed contentedly through his nose and nuzzled his way into Derek’s neck.

“Want me to return the favor?” Derek mumbled and could feel the warm breath of Stiles’ chuckle against his throat.

“No need.”

Derek’s eyebrows flew up, despite the fact Stiles couldn’t even see his expression.

“Already?” Stiles leaned back to glare at him. “That’s never happened before.”

“This time was different,” Stiles argued. His cheeks were flushing, the red color spreading until it was halfway down his chest before he even got his next words out. “We were having a moment. I was in the moment.”

Derek didn’t bother to hide his grin which only seemed to disgruntle Stiles more so he pulled the other man into a slow kiss, soothing away his embarrassment with a talented tongue. It was nice to finally use kissing for means other than shutting Stiles up.

“Thought you had plans?” Derek asked against his lips.

“We’ve got all night, buddy,” Stiles said. “And tomorrow…and the day after that…and the day after—”

“Alright. Alright. I get it.”

They were both smiling as they pressed into another kiss.

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

Stiles turned out to be right. Neither of them had ever been so glad that Derek didn’t have any roommates. They spent the entire weekend without clothes (Stiles wrapped a blanket around his waist when he answered the door for the Chinese delivery girl—she blushed profusely the entire time and Stiles peacocked for a good hour afterward) and lounged around on the couch and in Derek’s bed for a majority of the time. At one point, Derek attempted to make breakfast only to get popped by the bacon grease one too many times against his bare chest. Lucky for Stiles, Derek was willing to give him most of the few pieces he’d managed to cook.

Eventually, it was time to go back to the real world though. They still had two more weeks of classes and then exams—a week they were already planning to not spend any time together for fear of distraction while studying.

So, there they found themselves that Sunday night, lingering around the doorway. Stiles was back in the clothes he’d worn to the party on Friday, fidgeting with his sleeve for lack of anything else on his person to mess with.

“Want to get lunch after class on Wednesday?” Derek asked, watching him with a combination of amusement and trepidation. It wasn’t a look Stiles had seen from him before. He found it endlessly endearing.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Stiles said, biting back a grin. “I just…uh…have to tell Scott. I usually eat with him.”

“He can come, too.” Derek shrugged.

“Okay cool.”

The silence afterward was too long to be anything but awkward but Stiles quickly remedied that with a soft kiss and a dorky wave. And then he smoothly slid out the open door (Derek snorted when his foot snagged on the doorway and he went tumbling into the hallway) and waved again.

“See you Wednesday,” Stiles mumbled, ducking his head in an attempt to hide his embarrassed blush.

Despite Derek’s fond eyes and love confession from the night before, Stiles still felt unsure of how to hold himself in Derek’s presence. It seemed fairly obvious that they were boyfriends now but Stiles had never been in a relationship before so this was all new to him. Were there specific things that he should say or do now that it was official? Should he _hug_ Derek?

“Can’t wait,” Derek blurted solemnly before Stiles could come to a consensus and he froze before a slow grin stretched at his lips.

“Yeah. Me neither,” he breathed. “Um…bye.”

Stiles darted back in for one last quick kiss and then finally headed down the hall to the elevator.

The entire drive back to his dorm room found him practically vibrating with manic energy. He couldn’t stop his fingers from dancing along his thigh to the beat of the unknown song playing on the radio or his chest from swelling with every memory of Derek’s breath against his skin or the sound of his voice saying those oh so enticing words. It felt like every happy rom-com ending he’d ever watched (forced by Scott and Lydia) rolled into one fast beating heart.

But then again…this was a bit like his own rom-com ending. Only this was real and more than he ever could have dreamed of.

Maybe Lydia and Scott had a point with their movie night selections.

He refused to ever admit that to them, though.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me at my [tumblr](http://50-points-for-ravenclaw.tumblr.com/)!


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